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Mz.
Conduct's House Of Sin #22 "gas and giggles"
by mz. conduct, 8th July 2001.
This is column
#22 and itÕs dedicated to my son, Ben. He is 22 this year and born on
the 22nd. It seemed apropos. HeÕs been studying in Spain for a year now
and I miss his remarkable spirit. He is my friend, my blood, and my challenging
critic. I want to be just like him when I grow up.
I was severely humbled this week by a presence too amazing to explain,
but IÕll try. My husband, scoring big fat points, bought me my very own
ticket to see the one and only, the High Priestess of Soul, Dr. Nina Simone.
I sat a mere twenty feet from the grand diva of them all, in the second
row of the orchestra pit. SheÕs going to be seventy soon and Nina still
tickles the ivories and croons in that incomparable deep-throated groan
thatÕs like nothing else on earth. If you donÕt know who she is and have
never heard her voice, a voice that gives you immediate goose bumps, Mz.
Conduct orders you to do so! Make a dry martini; put on Nina and float
into another world. You can find out more about her on this site as well;
http://ninasimone.com/.
Last weekÕs column, Top Ten List of Things NOT to Do/Say When Responding
To a Personal Ad, seemed to go over well with folks. I did think of two
more important facts, in light of even more responses that I received
this week, via e-mail. Maybe there should be a Top Twelve:
11) Use your freakinÕ spellchecker! Compose a proper sentence. Have enough
respect for the woman to expect that she is a literate, intelligent, goddess.
Even if she only has three good teeth, smokes camels in a tattered muumuu,
and resides in the Twilight Lounge at the trailer park, she deserves your
effort. If you are not of this caliber, then just whack off to the idea
of a meeting, and donÕt even bother responding. When you say things like;
" I [sic] should be a porn star. you [sic] will love my big cock
and i waonÕt disapont u, call me soon hun," it makes me want to up-chuck
my good gin, gadamnit!
12) IÔve also heard, blah blah blah, and "IÕm a very young fifty-five
year old." Yeah right. Please, the crowfeet alone could create a
full-fledged flock. ItÕs nice that you FEEL younger, and good for you,
but guess what? YouÕre NOT! LetÕs face it, I FEEL like IÕm a twenty something
Jean Harlow, but guess what? Close, but no cigar. Leave out the fountain
of spewth testimonials.
So the transient trollop calls from some southern exposure and asks me,
" Guess what I got?" And I guessed, "An STD?" No,
instead, she got a marriage license. She and the man of her dreams stood
in line for hours to obtain the thing, chatting with folks who were there
getting landfill permits and what not. Friday the 13th is the "big
day," she said, unless of course theyÕre having a sale at Wal-Mart.
Congratulations my dog-eared bosom bitch, and if you end up at Wal-Mart,
could you get me a tube of lipstick?
Like my bumper sticker says, "Everyone is entitled to my opinion."
Dear Mz. Conduct,
This is so embarrassing to even write about, but if anyone could give
me a straight answer, I know you will. IÕve been dating this adorable
guy for a few weeks now and we have the best sex ever. The last time we
had sex, at the exact time I had an orgasm, I passed gas at the same time.
I thought I was going to die. Of course this guy heard it and started
laughing. Needless to say, the moment was lost and I ran out completely
humiliated. We havenÕt seen each other since, but he has been calling.
I canÕt even talk to him right now and donÕt know if I ever will, out
of sheer embarrassment. How do I get over this?
Red Faced in Reno
Dear RFIR,
My drag queen Jesus night-lite hasnÕt worked for over a year now, but
suddenly flipped on when the Catholic in-laws were here. ThatÕs something
to be embarrassed about, but just a little. Hey, such is life, and thatÕs
my response to you and your goofy predicament. YouÕre being a nincompoop
for making more out of it than it is. IÕm reminded of a line in a book
I once read that said, "When grandma breaks wind we beat the dog".
When you are in the midst of an orgasm that rocks you inside out, sometimes
everything just breaks loose. This shouldnÕt be a big deal. ItÕs not like
you had an attack of explosive diarrhea and sprayed your sweetie in the
snout. You should have just laughed along with him and that would be that.
Instead, youÕve made a turd mountain out of a simple booty blast. You
need to call up this guy and tell him you are sorry and you were just
really embarrassed, but youÕre over it now. Life is hilarious and if you
canÕt laugh at yourself, well then, youÕre just a repressed loser and
will go through life up tight and no one will really respect you at all.
I crack myself up sometimes just thinking about the little faux pas IÕve
had such as having about seventeen too many cocktails and falling out
of a car -- in a short black dress and do-me pumps, no less, right on
my voluptuous ass. Right when my ass hit the ground, the biggest fart
in the whole world emerged and echoed through the entire parking lot.
That was lovely. Another time, my husband was orally pleasing me and when
I came, I farted at the same time. Guess which one he didnÕt particularly
like? We both laughed like crazy (me, especially.) My point is, these
things happen. Over it? Good.
Dear Mz. Conduct,
I've lived with my boyfriend for four years now. We used to have a very
hot relationship, but since we moved in together the sex has dwindled
to two or three times a year. I've tried different settings, vacations,
a few cocktails, lingerie, baths, etc., nothing can perk up my desire.
I've had a physical and the doctor says there's nothing wrong. I realize
I'm pretty bored with my partner and that he doesn't stimulate me mentally
at all. But I'm too young to give up on my sex life altogether.
What should I do -- Get a lover? Move out? Masturbate?
Empty Nest
Dear Empty Nest,
All of the above, honey! That ought to "perk up your desire."
IÕm curious as to what you considered a "hot relationship" was,
what, maybe six times a year? You sound like you have about as much self
esteem as a side of cole slaw. Christ with a cock ring, you give women
a bad name! Where oh where is my hairless sweetie, with my gin-n-juice,
when I need him?
LetÕs see, youÕre not married so there wonÕt be any messy paperwork or
lawyers to deal with. Since you donÕt get much use out of his dysfunctional
penis, you may want to tie him to a chair, sprinkle lighter fluid all
over his crotch and then flick matches at it. You know, just for fun.
HeÕs obviously a sub-human pig not to realize that youÕre not happy, not
getting it, and just letting things go on as they are. He may even have
some burger slinging, knocked up, teenybopper on the side. Time to take
matters in your own hands. Tell him you need more from a relationship
than what his lame ass is contributing then pack his stinking bags with
all his skid marked undies (because we know heÕs that type) and toss them
into traffic. You said it yourself, heÕs not stimulating you mentally
or physically, so what the hell are you sticking around for? Quit being
a whiny wench and wave bye-bye. Better things (canned meat for instance)
await you my dear, I promise.
Next week, the winner of the best question contest is revealed! In the
meantime, give me your stuff; guttergrl69@hotmail.com
copyright 2001 all rights reserved Kim Alvarez
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