DarthClem's blog

In last month's Men's Health magazine, there was an article about re-invigorating your sex life through role playing.  Having been in a monogomous relationship with my wife for the last 13 years, I was intrigued.  The article listed specific role playing fantasies and how favorably each of the sexes rated it.

Two of the top sexual role playings, as both sexes rated them, were: "strangers at a bar" and "pilot / flight attendent".  Coming in a little further down the list was "male boss / female employee" and "female boss / male employee" (which actually rated higher for men).

In last month's Men's Health magazine, there was an article about re-invigorating your sex life through role playing.  Having been in a monogomous relationship with my wife for the last 13 years, I was intrigued.  The article listed specific role playing fantasies and how favorably each of the sexes rated it.

Two of the top sexual role playings, as both sexes rated them, were: "strangers at a bar" and "pilot / flight attendent".  Coming in a little further down the list was "male boss / female employee" and "female boss / male employee" (which actually rated higher for men).

Can you imagine how different the world would be if all the things that came out of our bodies smelled nice (and where applicable, tasted nice)?  I was thinking this as I took care of an itch in my ear canal with my pinky.  For whatever reason, whenever I scratch in or around any orifice on my body, I feel obligated to sniff my finger -- call it "my need to know".

So imagine this world...  You have company over and one of your guests says "Wow, something smells really good in here.  Did you make blueberry muffins?"

You say, "Nope.  I just took a dump, but thanks."

Can you imagine how different the world would be if all the things that came out of our bodies smelled nice (and where applicable, tasted nice)?  I was thinking this as I took care of an itch in my ear canal with my pinky.  For whatever reason, whenever I scratch in or around any orifice on my body, I feel obligated to sniff my finger -- call it "my need to know".

So imagine this world...  You have company over and one of your guests says "Wow, something smells really good in here.  Did you make blueberry muffins?"

You say, "Nope.  I just took a dump, but thanks."

I'm sure my idiot clanmates will think I'm talking about diarrhea, but I'm actually talking about my morning running.

Why are Thursdays fun?  Because it's garbage collection day.  It's fun to see what people look like at 6 in the morning.  Many are in their pajamas or a pair of sweats and they all look pretty unhappy.

I'm sure my idiot clanmates will think I'm talking about diarrhea, but I'm actually talking about my morning running.

Why are Thursdays fun?  Because it's garbage collection day.  It's fun to see what people look like at 6 in the morning.  Many are in their pajamas or a pair of sweats and they all look pretty unhappy.

If you ask yourself if you feel like working out, the answer will probably be "no".  If when the alarm goes off at 5:45am and you ask yourself if you really feel like going out and running a few miles, the answer will probably be "no".  I don't know if it's that metaphorical devil on my shoulder, or that "animal" part of the brain that tells me I should save my energy for a real flight or fight situation.  I've learned the solution is to not even ask myself the question, "do I feel like exercising?"

If you ask yourself if you feel like working out, the answer will probably be "no".  If when the alarm goes off at 5:45am and you ask yourself if you really feel like going out and running a few miles, the answer will probably be "no".  I don't know if it's that metaphorical devil on my shoulder, or that "animal" part of the brain that tells me I should save my energy for a real flight or fight situation.  I've learned the solution is to not even ask myself the question, "do I feel like exercising?"

Have you ever looked at pictures of the presidents when they are first elected and then compared them to when they're into their second term?  Look at either Bill Clinton or Dubya Bush and they both came into office looking youthful, but 6 or 7 years into their terms, they are completely grey and look like they've aged 20 years.