My Sexy 12-Step Program: Abridged

I was consulting some old Smoove The Love Man posts recently (Educate yourself here: http://www.theonion.com/content/columnists/view/smoove)

Smoove is a real hero of mine, as much as anyone can be more heroic than myself. He lives in Cincinnati! Exciting! And sexy!

And he manages to squeeze in time from his very sexy agenda to dispense love communication fundamentals in silky tones and silky attire at the very reliable Learning Annex.

Anyway, Smoove makes mention of his sexy 12-step program which got me thinking of my own 12-step program, except mine is much shorter because I'm an incredibly fast learner and pick up skills like a ninja.

I thought "Wow, my shorter than 12-step program is really sexy and I should totally share it with the world."

I thought better of that though. You can't just give it away for free. But I'm feeling a little generous so I'll give you a totally sexy peek into my sexy world and maybe throw in a sexy step here and there. I feel for you after all.

MY UNOFFICIAL SEXY 12-STEP PROGRAM: ABRIDGED PLUS SOME OTHER SEXY TIPS

-- Unsexy: ponies; post-it notes; pickles (naturally); vomiting of any kind, shape, or form (even if projectile); a medicine cabinet full of medicines for all of your unsavory and unsexy ailments; barber shop quartets, quarters (so bulky), rainbows; Scrabble; and of course white sweatpants.

-- Definitely sexy: beards (duh); bedazzled anything; inventions and those who invent them; pennies; Abraham Lincoln; scrambled eggs; HORNS; showers (clean = sexy time); Boggle; my taste in music, art, film, and literature (duh squared); on-demand a capella; Nina Simone's "I want some sugar in my bowl." (period, the end.)

-- How to Feel Sexy Every Time: Find someone who embodies the Unsexy items above. Stand next to them.

-- How to Make It Sexy Time With Your Partner Who May or May Not Be As Sexy As You: Say something sexy like "Girl/Boy, I'm thinking that since I'm infinitely sexier than you, you should really treasure this moment in my very precious but infinite sexy time to really go to town on me. Do it. Now." Another option is to steal directly from Craig’s List Personals. If that’s not a treasure trove of sexual feeling for you moderately sexy people, then I don’t know what other recourse you mediocre sexy people have.

-- How to (Un)Dress for Success: What you’re wearing before, during, and after the sexual business at hand cannot be taken lightly. I suggest sexy materials like Velcro, those little snappy buttons that are really snaps on cowboy shirts, hospital gowns, unitards or anything uni, maybe a pair of Clarks and nothing else (me-ow).

Also important in the (Un)Dress for Success is how you remove said sexy items. I’d suggest maybe practicing a horn solo to accompany your state of slow and sexy undress. Either that, or some good old-fashioned, set-the-mood phrases like “yeah girl/boy,” “oh yes, I did,” “grrrr,” with an occasional grunt to mix it up sexy like. Works every time.

-- How to Position Yourself in the Best Possible Sexual Position: Don’t try to reinvent the sexual wheel here. You have sexy limitations and we all know it. If there are mirrors in the room, make sure your partner cannot see how totally unsexy they look right now, especially when they make that face that they think is outrageously sexy but is really akin to ponies in white sweatpants playing Scrabble.

Another good tip is to position yourself close to the nearest exit just in case your partner gets that crazy unsatisfied look and you need to run for your life. This is also good if aforementioned partner forgets to inform you that their equally batshit crazy significant other just got back into town and hasn’t relinquished his/her keys. You can still look sexy making a fast getaway!


Wow, I'm blowing my totally sexual mind with all this free advice. You're well on your way to being 10% sexy, which is about a 100% gain. I'd suggest printing the shit out of this entry and keeping it folded in your pocket at all times.

You are very welcome, somewhat sexy people.

Bed of Meat!

I love meat. Everyone knows that. Or should. I’d much rather receive a box of meat than flowers or candy, unless of course it’s meat candy because there’s no denying that meat candy would be both delicious and nutritious.

Case in point: chocolate-covered bacon. TASTE. EXPLOSION. Yes! I haven’t actually enjoyed the chocolate-covered bacon just yet because I fear my heart could not withstand the enjoyment. I might die. And seeing as I’ve already had my near-death episode, I’m going to take a pass on you delicious chocolate-covered bacon taste explosion. For now at least.

Back to meat.

I seem to have found someone who enjoys the meat as much as I do. This lady made a bed in the shape of a hamburger, nay cheeseburger, with pickle pillows and a genuine slice of cheese, and tomatoes and shit. This is crazy stuff right here. It’s not for sale right now and that’s probably a good thing. Create some demand in the marketplace. The Hamburger Bed has its own Facebook page. I see this really taking off. It could very well be the waterbed of its day.

Here’s the thing.

I love hamburgers. I do not love hamburgers all junked up with pickles (which I reject categorically) or ketchup or any of those other disgusting condiments you commoners ruin it up with. I like it straight up with some cheese and maybe some delicious bacon and quite possibly some onions.

Yes I love the hamburger but do I want to sleep inside one? Do I want to become part of the hamburger? Clearly any hamburger with me as an ingredient would be fucking phenomonal. It would have to be housed in a museum or something. I’d totally rock the Guinness Book of World Records for most delicious human hamburger ever conceived. Peoples would be licking the windows where my human hamburger would be housed. It would be sad for you. And yet exciting!

This is all fact.

However, why do I want to nod off with my awesome dreams while encased in the hamburger and its sesame-topped buns? Maybe this hamburger bed smells like meat. I might be on board with that.

A long, long time ago I practiced the vegetarianism. I was young and undeniably stupid, more so for forsaking the delicious meat for an equally young and indubitably more stupid boy. After we split, I continued on this tree-hugging ridiculosity until I became tortured by dreams of hamburgers. This is all fact. Night after night I would dream of delicious, bloody hamburgers with their cheese all oozing out the sides just like hot melty cheese can do. After many weeks of such unconscious torture, I ate a hamburger. And it was ri-goddamn-diculously amazing. End of interlude.

With my own hamburger bed, I fear some burglar would unknowingly take a bite out of me when he’s innocently trying to rob my secret headquarters of all its awesome stuff. If that should happen, rest assured I would destroy said burglar after crying a tiny tear on the inside for his dashed hamburger dreams.

I digress. I’m really on the fence with this Hamburger Bed. It’s going to keep me up at night. Those pharmaceutical people should really come up with a sleeping pill that tastes like hamburgers to counteract the sleeplessness caused by the Hamburger Bed. I’m going to write a letter to someone now. Stay tuned.

As always, you’re welcome.

You are wrong and will admit it.

Hello. I've been busy doing top secret stuff for several months so pardon the absence. My return has been heralded by an attack, nay an affront, to my keen sense of fashion. As we all know, I not only have my fingers on the pulse but I am the pulse of all things fashionable. So this particular assault was completely ungrounded, and one might say ludicrous. My attacker will rue the day.

So let's begin.

IN DEFENSE OF THE GREATEST SHOE OF ALL TIME
Yes, our defense is of the Clarks pictured above. This particular stalwart of fashion is known as the Wallabee. (Sidenote: my assailant claims to be of Australian descent and yet attacks a shoe named after a relative of the kangaroo. Self-loathing, much?)

Ahem. Clarks are a long-established English export, dating back to 1825. I know this because I am an excellent detective and read the Clarks timeline. If you are unfamiliar with Clarks, perhaps you grew up in a burrow somewhere burrowish and that is very sad for you.

Prepare for educational download. Aforementioned Clarks history begins thus:

It began with a flash of inspiration.

Well, in fact, every day I too begin with a flash of inspiration!

It was the very first Clarks shoe and the opening chapter in a remarkable story that continues to unfold to this day. In the decades that have passed since the young Mr. Clark’s eureka moment our shoes have seen social, political and economic revolution. They’ve seen fashions in footwear come and go, and come again – everything from court shoes and winklepickers to wedge heels, sandals and sneakers. They’ve tapped to the beat of crooners, rockers, Britpoppers and hip hoppers. They’ve walked, marched, strode and sashayed through an ever-changing world.

What have your shoes done lately? Mine have weathered unrest and winklepickers! They've sashayed for Christ's sake.

I will admit that Clarks are not for everyone. You have to be of my supreme awesomeness in order to carry the weight of their history. Few can handle the pressure. But they are not in fact ugly. Non! They are a testament to industriousness and as their site says "chosen by those seeking authenticity and individuality. . . a timeless classic loved by millions."

Match point, set, game.

You cannot argue with me. Why would you even try? Resistance is futile. I will debate the pants off you and if you're lucky, your ridiculous, unoriginal shoes as well.

So viva la revolucion, Clarks! I embrace my suede upper and moccassin-like construction. I crush naysayers like bug under my thick rubber sole.

As I am an original, it's only fitting my footwear follow suit.

Formal apologies will be considered by the committee of me in due course and in order of receipt.

You're welcome.