Thoughtless for the Day

Trent Lott is back. That may seem like an odd way to kick off the SEX post but it actually makes perfect sense: If a man like Trent Lott can be restored to a position of power after saying that America would be a far better place had Strom "I've got white hood and a black daughter" Thurmond been elected president in 1948, then we are all fucked.

The only possibly positive thing that can be said about the state of our nation had Strom Thurmond been elected President in 1948 is that Nicole Simpson might still be alive today. Which brings us to my latest source of inspiration: The Juice.

As you may or may not know (or care), OJ Simpson has penned a new book titled If I Did It in which he speculates on the methods he might have used to dispatch his wife and LA's only straight waiter, you know if he had actually killed them instead being at home that night polishing his collection of hunting knives.

Anyhoo, OJ book gave me an idea for one of my own. Back I my single Dead Milkmen days odd rumors floated about like oil slicks in the wake of a Liberian tanker that a few of the women I dated were famous: and not just robbing a string of Kroegers in southwest Ohio. Until now (or, to be more accurate "until now that the statute of limitations has run out") I never wrote much any of the women I dated before I met my wife. After all, where's the fun in reading about a messy breakup triggered by too many Pabst Blue Ribbons and a hasty decision to raise lamas. That's why I've decided to follow OJ lead and write a book speculating on what might have gone on between myself and several famous women had I actually dated them. The book will be called If I Did Her. Here's a sample chapter:

Lisa "Blair" Whelchel

All I can say is that I must've gotten really wasted in order to keep my dinner down long enough to tap into that walrus-like action. If memory severs, I met Blair outside a bowling alley just outside of Trenton. This was in the early nineties and Blair was down on her luck and traveling around the country as part of something called "Bowling with the Stars" which would late become The Vagina Monologues. Long-story-short: After I vigorously sprayed Blair's nether regions with Rid-X we ducked into a nearby Port-O-Potty where we played "Fill the Brownies" and "Swallow the Tabasco".

What is this woman talking about? Didn't she see the personal ad that clearly stated "No fisting on the fist date"? Lady, if the CP were reputable, decent and sophisticated, they'd never let me write for them.

And now the sexy sounds of Sondra Pill...