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Recently, while loading the dishwasher, I was told I was being anal.  This would not have been so bad except that this was by someone who would be considered the Queen of Anal by many (and by many, I mean particularly me.)  This is like someone being told by President Obama that they are a bad economist.  Anyway, my first reaction upon hearing this was that I should check my shorts and make sure my entire male package was still intact.  Thankfully it was.

Still, it made me take pause.  Was I becoming a woman?  Then I realized, “Uh oh, chick flicks are generally my favorite type of movie.”  I rationalized, but who could resist a line like, “You had me at hello, you had me at hello.” (I’m not sure why she had to repeat it.  Maybe Tom Cruise was supposed to be hard of hearing in that movie.)

Wait a minute! I am becoming a woman, AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Hold on, hold on. (Oh, I repeat myself too, so, okay Renee Zellweger, you get a pass on that one.)  Oh no, this is getting worse by the minute, I’m talking like a woman too.  I’ve got to stop having this conversation …with myself.  (Do women do that?)

Okay, here’s a positive thought, A Few Good Men was one of my favorite movies of all time.  Yeah, that makes me feel better.  A real ass kicker there.  But, oh crap!  Even that was more of a cerebral movie, no bombs going off or bodies blowing up.  Oh sure, there were a couple of unintentional murders which was the premise for the whole movie, but no real guy stuff, like gratuitous violence.  I’m going to admit something here that, as a man, I am not proud of, but I don’t even like gratuitous violence in movies very much.  (Oh God, I hope I’m still capable of having sex!)

Here we go, here’s something in my favor.  Gratuitous sex, which is often in the chick flicks, which I enjoy, is something I like very much.  Yeah, baby!  I’m starting to feel better about my manhood already.  And gratuitous nudity…bring it on!  Yes!!

While I’ll admit, I don’t need the gratuitous sex and nudity, that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it.  (I couldn’t just stop when I was feeling better about myself, could I?)

I got it now, for me to enjoy a chick flick it has to be a rom com.  So you see, it’s the comedy that I like.  I don’t go for movies like Eat, Pray, Love, Make Me Throw Up.  That’s a relief.  I am pretty macho after all.

Here is a little aside (to get me off of this subject since I was getting ahead, finally.)  There is a new movie coming out with Cameron Diaz, called Bad Teacher.  I don’t think it’s a rom com, or necessarily even a chick flick, but the ad I saw made me regret my childhood because I never had a teacher that looked remotely like Cameron Diaz.  The teacher I most remember was my fifth grade teacher whose boobs were so big she carried her lunch tray on top of them, but not in an attractive way because the rest of her was equally as big. And she reveled in leading the class in singing a stirring rendition of Carry Me Back to Old Virginy…Ah memories!

So there you have it.  I’m going to end off on this subject of my manhood while I’m still ahead, sort of.  Anyway, I‘ve got to get back to loading the dishwasher!

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You have to admire women.  They are the ultimate multi-taskers.  Not only can they cook, clean, pay the bills, take care of the kids, organize the entire household and do a multitude of tasks for the husband, they can also be the consummate backseat drivers while sitting in the passenger seat of the car.  It’s like they are in two places at once.

People often wonder what we did before the invention of the GPS.  But, really, it’s no mystery we’ve always had women to tell us where to go, what to do, how to drive, tell us we are going too fast, too slow, following too close, we should take the side streets, etc., etc.

Probably the reason men have the reputation of never wanting to stop to ask for directions is that we have already received so many directions from our wives that it’s fun for a change to try it on our own.

Even on the standard GPS, they use a woman’s voice.  By the way, I hate that bitch sometimes.  A lot of times she waits until you are right at the turn and then she tells you to turn, which makes you miss the turn.  At least we get to blame her and it doesn’t start a fight with the wife.

They were probably afraid to have a man’s voice on the GPS because male drivers would start talking about sports to their GPS and they’d end up drinking beers in a bar somewhere and never get to where they were going.

In women’s defense, though, if it wasn’t for them, men would probably not, in general, get a whole lot done.  There would be a lot of TV watching and when we’d get bored we tell the youngest child to come over to our chair and have them pull our finger.  We count on our women at those times to roll their eyes and shake their heads to keep us in line.  Our discipline gets a little steeper when the kids are not around , which is one of the reasons we had kids in the first place…protection.

In our driving women are also necessary because even though we act like it’s a burden that they always tell us what to do, we need the orders.  It also works equally well for the women because it gives them a way to manifest their control freakism.  Women aren’t always control freaks.  It usually only occurs after they get married and it happens out of necessity.  So, if we complain about our wives, we shouldn’t since we actually created the situation.  This all makes marriage a very symbiotic relationship.

In regards to driving I think it would be great if they made a GPS with both a male and female voice and that way the GPS genders could argue with each other and it would save a lot of marriages since the live people would just listen.  It would go like this:

Female GPS voice: Turn right at the next light.

Male GPS voice:  What are you talking about we’ll never get there on the side streets, take the freeway.

Female GPS voice:  Fine, at least put your turn signal on.  If you’re going to get us killed we’ll at least be legal.

Male GPS voice:  You never let up, do you!

…And so it goes.  But what would we do without them?  Pull on my finger and you’ll find out!

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When men clean something, unless it is a car, they have a completely different standard of clean than women have, and by different I mean lower.  Not that we consider the object or room to be unclean, but if a women were to inspect our cleaning job after we do it to our “man clean” standard her first response will be to shake her head, then she’ll try to shame us into redoing the job and ultimately she will bypass us altogether and clean it herself and point out the difference afterward (which we won’t be able to see).

“Woman clean” seems so unnecessary to a man.  When a man cleans up in the house his viewpoint is to get off the worse dirt and the female of the house can get the rest.  We figure we did the hard work and you can take over from there.  We just never put it to the woman like that for self-preservation reasons.  It’s not unlike when we open a jar for the woman, we feel like we cooked the meal but she gets to take the credit.  Being such benevolent guys we can live with that.

“Woman clean” compared to “man clean” could be compared to the high-pitched sounds that only a dog can hear.  Men just don’t see what the women see.

This is a little known fact, but, men used to be in charge of the cleaning back in the caveman days.  They would get the cave spick and span by their standard and then when the woman would get home from having a Sabertooth tiger burger with a swamp grass salad on the side with her girlfriends at the local cave diner she would throw a hissy fit about the cleaning job that he did.  It got to the point that he had to carry a club around just to protect himself.  Finally, the cave woman got so sick of the lousy cleaning job that the man did that she took over the cleaning hat, and that’s where we have it today.  We men keep trying every now and then but we just can’t seem to get our cleaning up to the woman’s standard.  And darn it, we are really upset about that (to the guys only: wink, wink.)

This week we will get a guest rebuttal to what I have to say by my girlfriend, Su.  (Please, don’t confuse her with our occasional guest columnist, Dear Crabby, who some might think she is the real life version of.  Just to be clear, I would never think that, nor do I know anybody who would, just sayin’.)

———————————————————————————————————————————-

Man clean. Oxymoron. For decades, I’ve lived by the adage “A clean machine is a happy machine.” You’d think that guys, who are into machines, would instinctively understand this. Maybe it’s because they stopped cleaning back in the caveman days, before machines.

Recently, our vacuum cleaner wasn’t working. I asked Steve to check it out. He looked at it. He said, “I don’t see anything wrong.”

I answered, “Was the roller clean? Was the belt on track?” You’d of thought I was speaking Greek. Or Cave.

Sigh.

There are things that men are good at, though—taking out the trash, for instance. Steve is so good at this, in fact, that sometimes he puts the cans on the street days before pickup. Hmmmm, I just had a thought…. Maybe he did that so I wouldn’t see that he forgot to put it out the week before….

——————————————————————————————————————————-

(Seriously, guys, she is NOT Dear Crabby.)

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With summer just around the corner, people will want to start going to the beach.  This was often a cause for concern for many people, mostly women, because they were worried how they were going to look in a bathing suit.  It created a boom for fad diets and weight loss gimmicks.  But as America’s collective asses get bigger and bigger this is becoming less of a problem.

It should be noted here before we go further that men also care about what they look like but usually when a man looks in the mirror and he sees a stud.  This is because a man is able to see through his own fat and see the body beneath it.  No one else can see his body like that but it looks that way to him.  Strangely he can see other people’s fat, especially women’s, but his own can easily be ignored.

Women, traditionally, balance out this fat equation by seeing much more fat on their body’s when they look in the mirror.  So it works out really well for the men…until reality rears its ugly head.

Men are basically shallow.  To say that men generally have a lot of self awareness would be like saying Chastity is a good name for a hooker.  We can clearly see outnesses in others, again, especially in women.  But when we glance in a mirror and see ourselves, no matter how bad we look we respond with an excited and satisfied, “Oh Yeah!!”

Women balance this out for us again by getting overly concerned with how they look when they glance in the mirror, and by glancing I mean spending ten minutes analyzing and trying to fix things.

A man can have to purchase two seats to be able to fly on an airplane but the only concession he’ll  make is that he might be slightly overweight.

Women obsess about their weight to the point that it is now a cliché that a woman will ask, “Do these jeans make my ass look fat?”  I think, just for fun, and to cure her of ever asking again, men should answer that question with, “No, the jeans have nothing to do with it.  It’s the fat on your ass that makes your ass look fat.”  On second thought that could be the joke that sends us to our grave so let’s just leave that one alone.  We can just snicker to ourselves the next time she asks and continue to abruptly answer that with, “No, those jeans look great on you.”  It really doesn’t matter because she’ll change them anyway.

So, as I alluded to in the first paragraph the solution to people worrying about their weight apparently is that everyone just lets themselves get fatter.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way and 150lbs. for a woman is becoming the new 120lbs.  Women are going to continue to obsess about their weight and their looks and men will continue to obsess about women’s weight and looks, but not their own.

That said, there are exceptions to these rules, like myself for example.  In fact, I think I’ll give myself the once over in the mirror right now… “Oh Yeah!!”  Heck, it looks like I can eat another bag of potato chips before I go to bed.

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The reputation is that women get together and they talk about relationships over a two hour lunch and then they split up the bill down to the penny and if they catch the waiter trying to listen in on their conversation they stiff him.  But recent research that I have done (meaning I thought about it and came up with this theory) is that men talk about relationships just as much as women do, maybe more.

This may surprise you but, frankly, it appears the men are also much more sensitive about it all too.  Here’s an example:

Woman #1:  Bob just doesn’t communicate with me anymore.  He just comes home and plops down in front of the TV and stares at it until he falls asleep.

Woman #2: I hear you.  My Joe does the same thing.  There is one night a week that’s different though.  I have to admit I get excited every week when Monday comes around… because he goes bowling and I get the house to myself.

(They both laugh.)

Men on the other hand take their relationship talk much more seriously.  Here’s what I mean:

Man #1:  I was watching the Lakers’ game last night and there just doesn’t seem to be any communication going on with them the way they move the ball around.

Man #2: I know what you mean.  I’m really worried about it.  If they keep going this way there won’t be any 3-peat.

Now you see what I mean.  There is genuine concern with the men whereas the women are quite cavalier about this relationship problem and just make a joke about it (and not that funny of one either.)  As it turns out that male conversation above turned out to be very prophetic and I, for one, am very distraught about the Lakers’ loss in the playoffs, stemming from their lack of communication, the cornerstone of any relationship.

Men and women also both talk about sex with their friends pretty equally.  Here’s another example:

Woman #1:  Bob was all horny last night and when I finally got the kids to sleep and went up to the bedroom he was asleep.

Woman #2:  HaHa! Just like a man!

(No one really likes that woman #2.)

Now let’s listen to men discussing sex:

Man #1:  So there I was watching the Lakers and for the first time in a week my wife wants to have sex.

Man #2: Oh my god!  What did you do?

Man #1:  Fortunately I was able to hold her off until halftime.

Man #2:  Cool!  Did you miss any of the game?

Man #1:  No, that was the beauty of the whole thing.  We were done and she had time to make me a snack too before the game was back on.

Man#2:  Oh, that’s beautiful, man.  So it was a win-win for everyone!  Way to go!

Are you following my line of thinking here?  Men – SENSITIVE.  Women, not so much.

Here’s another example that should seal the deal on the sensitivity thing:

Woman #1:  Bob hasn’t bugged me to have sex for weeks now.  I have to admit I’m kind of enjoying it.

Woman #2:  I know what you’re saying.

Here’s the men.  I’ll have to set up this scenario.  They are watching a basketball game and the team they are rooting for make a three point play with only seconds to go, putting them ahead by 5 points.  They jump to their feet and high-five each other.

Man #1:  They (meaning the opposing team) are so screwed now!

They high-five again.

So, you see the men are not only sensitive, but in this example they are also quite passionate about the screwing.  Sensitive and passionate, what a combination!

I don’t know about you but all this relationship talk has somehow put me in the mood to watch some basketball.

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Dear God,

It’s me, Adam.  I, being a man and your ultimate creation, don’t really like to complain, but I feel a need to voice my opinion.  It seems like you made Eve with a few too many flaws.  Of course I love her, but there are times when she can be just a little too grumpy.  It seems to occur at regular intervals every month.  It seems like a basic flaw in the design.  I’m pretty mechanically inclined, being a man, so if you’d like some help on fixing that I’d like to offer my services.

The next thing is, again, not complaining because you know I never do, but it seems like Eve tends to nag a little too much.  After a long day of work in the Garden of Eden I like to come home and relax.  The problem is as soon as Eve sees me sitting on my reclining chair with my feet propped up she thinks I should be doing something around the house like painting or fixing something.  Maybe, in the new design you could have the women do those kinds of chores.  I think the men of future generations will thank me for making that request.

Next up, and you know I’m not a complainer, but, Eve seems to whine an awful lot.  If she’s not happy, nobody is going to be happy.  If she doesn’t like some situation she just tends to complain and go on and on about it no matter what.  I can give her an infinite amount of solutions but she’ll just tell me how they would never work, without her ever trying them.  It can get very frustrating.

Lastly, as we know our language has not developed very far yet, since we don’t have a word to describe this next thing, I’m going to have to coin a new word to describe it.  It seem like what she frequently does should be called “bitching.”  Yeah, I don’t know why but that just feels like an accurate description of the way she tends to act.  I guess the bitching, boy I really like that word, could be summed up to include all the things I already mentioned.

Well, God, I want to thank you very much for listening.  You know I’m not complaining here, because then I’d be doing exactly what I accused Eve of doing.  As we know I’m not a bitch.  There is a word that Eve has come up with to call me, which is “Asshole” and I have to say I’m not really fond of that name.  I’m pretty sure she’s not using it a complimentary way.  Then again you didn’t make her perfect like you made me so maybe she does intend it as a compliment, who knows?  I can’t really figure women out.

I know you told me before you accidentally dropped the mold that you made me from and it broke it so you were unable to make Eve as perfect as I am.  But, then again, since you did make me so perfect maybe I could help you fix up the pattern for Eve.  It’s an idea anyway.

Well, thanks for listening God, we’ll be in touch.  Hopefully you’ll consider my offer before you make too many more models of these women.  If there were a lot of women and they were doing this bitching thing it may be tough for future men to bear.  Just in case you turn down my offer, though, I’ve been thinking of an invention that will help men in the future cope with the bitching.  It would be a thing called a “bar.”

Sincerely,

Adam

Dear Adam,

I think you should know, I’m actually a woman.

Sincerely,

God

Dear God,

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Adam

(Side note from God: “I’m neither a man or a woman but it sure was fun to yank Adam’s chain.  I think I’ll call that ‘humor’”)

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(My new humor book, “How to Romance a Woman and Other Crap Like That”  is available on the darnfunnyonline.com web site for only  $6.95.  It is an e-book. Download it now and start enjoying it right  away!)

This past week a Biblical Scholar came out and said that God was married.  Finally, we can have more of an understanding why a good, benevolent God would cause such things as disease, hardship, earthquakes, hurricanes, pestilence, etc.

I’m not saying that women can drive men a little crazy sometimes…okay, well maybe I am, but I only mean it in a good way… (Quick guys, somebody help me out of the corner I trapped myself into here.)

Well, since no one came to my defense it is just more evidence that all the men were afraid because their women tend to be control freaks.  Yes, I know that is a generalization and it is totally untrue.  It’s just the married women who are control freaks.

I have a theory about this…which upon speculation I have decided to keep totally to myself.  I thought that might be wise based on the hot breath I felt on my neck.  And trust me; this is not the good type of hot breath that we men fantasize about.  It’s more like a specter of death kind of hot breath that warned me to keep my mouth shut.  (See, I told you they were control freaks-ouch!)

Women like to think that they don’t want their men to be “whipped”, yet, in reality, they like to feel like they control everything about their man.  They won’t use the term in public but when they get behind closed doors where it is just women talking I’d bet it is one of the most common words in their vocabulary!  This is kind of like Charlie Sheen and “winning”.  For women their version of “winning” is “whipped”.

Here is an example of a woman having her man “whipped”:

Wife: Honey, I need you to take out the trash right away, it’s starting to overflow.

Husband:  I’ll do it in a little while.  I’m busy right now.

Wife:   You said the same thing a few hours ago.  You’re sitting on your chair doing nothing.

Husband:  That’s just the way it appears.  For all you know I could be saving the world here while I’m deep in my thought processes.

Wife:  That’s great Ghandi, but how about saving the world after you take out the trash.  We’re going to have our own crisis of great proportions right here in this house if you don’t do it now!

Husband:  Fine, I’ll do it, but the fate of the world is on your head.

Wife:  I’ll bear that burden…And while you’re up run to the store and get a few things.  I’ll make a list.

(The husband is grumbling to himself as he walks out the door.)

Wife:  (Gets a big smile and says to herself) Duh, whipped.

In reality, it only appears we men are whipped.  We are not stupid… okay, maybe a little bit.  But what we really are is sly like a fox.  If we let you women think you are in control of everything we get out of an awful lot of work and that plays right into our hands.  Because, what we are more than anything is lazy and shiftless.  I think it’s safe to say the men win that round…wait…At least I think we do.

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(My new humor book, “How to Romance a Woman and Other Crap Like That”  is available on the darnfunnyonline.com web site for only  $6.95.  It is an e-book. Download it now and start enjoying it right  away!)

Most every man looks forward to loafing on the weekend after a hard week of work.  We look forward to relaxing and doing whatever we darn well please…but then there are married men, who never get to do that because of a list that their spouses like to haunt them with called the dreaded “honey-do” list.

There are men who think they can avoid this when they begin to cohabitate.  These are the same men that think the earth is flat, that the Internet is a fad, and they are the geniuses that are holding onto that stock of the buggy whip company because they know it is about to boom.

These chores that we are assigned are things like painting, cleaning out the rain gutters and digging holes to plant new plants.  Those are the kind of jobs that you like to see the results of, but doing the jobs themselves are not that much fun.  We would prefer it if a job fairy could come by in the middle of the night and get those things done for us.

Why is it wives don’t include things on those “honey-do” lists like blowing stuff up or starting a big bon fire or some other equally fun “man” type of activity?  The really cool stuff is left to paid experts.  We  like to do things where something explodes or there is at least some degree of danger.  What male, when he was a young boy, didn’t take a fire cracker and try to blow up an ant hill or something equally destructive, uh, I mean creative?  But, I guess the fact that we like to barbeque just because there is fire shows that we have declined in our daringness from the caveman days.    So you women might be onto something by not letting us do the things we like (as long as that restriction doesn’t extend to the bedroom as well.)

A typical conversation between a man and a woman about the “honey-do” list might go like this:

Woman:  Honey, I need you to do some things around the house this weekend.

Man:  Sorry, I already have some things I’m going to do around the house this weekend.  They include lying on the sofa with my eyes open, lying on the sofa with my eyes closed and watching sports.  And then…Oh, yeah, more lying around.

Woman: Yeah, that’s nice but that’s what you did that last several weekends and you said you were going to be getting to these chores.

Man: …And I plan to, I just never specified a date.

Woman:  Let me get this straight.  I come home from work and cook and clean, do laundry, ironing and most everything else around the house and you do nothing?

Man:  Hmm…yeah, that works for me.

It deteriorates from there as we not only end up doing the work on the list but we also have to pick ourselves up off the floor before doing it.  Many men would be totally content spending our weekends staring off into space and timing how long it takes for the drool to drop off of our chins.  But, alas, it does not work that way.

I know there are men that do actually enjoy doing these kinds of chores around the house.  I’d like to acknowledge their work ethic, as well as invite them all over to my house this weekend.

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(My new humor book, “How to Romance a Woman and Other Crap Like That”  is available on the darnfunnyonline.com web site for only  $6.95.  It is an e-book. Download it now and start enjoying it right  away!)

As a man I can’t really understand why a woman feels a burning need to buy new clothing just because she is taking a trip.  My girlfriend recently had to go somewhere for a couple of weeks and in the rush of getting ready it was an emergency to get to the mall to buy new clothing.  I asked her why she couldn’t just wear some of the clothing that was in her closet.  I got an eye roll and, “You wouldn’t understand.”  That was definitely a statement I could agree with.

But the fact is (at least the facts as I see them) women have been this way down through the ages.  I can just hear a pioneer woman as she is packing up the wagon to join the wagon train going west:

Woman:  I am not getting onto that wagon until I get to the store and buy a new bonnet.

Man:  What’s wrong with the bonnets you have now?  Don’t you have like a dozen of them?

Woman:  All of my bonnets are so last year!  Have you ever even seen the cover of Pioneer Woman Weekly?

Man:  Well, no not really, I’ve been working in the field and hunting for food and taking care of the animals.

Woman:  (rolls her eyes and shakes her head)

Next, let’s take the time machine back a little farther to Roman times:

Woman:  Since we are going to visit my mother I’m going to have to go buy some new stolas.  (Author’s note: that is comparable Roman clothing for women to a toga…it’s not that I’m so smart, I googled it.  And you thought I didn’t do research for these articles!)

Man:  But, why?  You have enough stolas to fill a chariot.

Woman:  When we attend an orgy on this trip I’m not going to going to wear a stola that I wore to another orgy.

Man:  But at a Roman orgy we are naked!

Woman:  Duh, you have to wear clothing to get there.  And , by the way, it will need to be designer.  I’m not going to be caught dead wearing something off the rack and risk some other woman throwing the same outfit I had on into the  a pile of clothing at the door.

Man:  Well, I’m not buying a new toga, mine is perfectly good.

Woman:  You men are so lucky, all your togas are the same color and design.

Man:  Whatever!

Woman:  (rolls her eyes and shakes her head)

Now we’ll go way back to prove my theory, back to prehistoric times:

Woman:  If we are having dinner at the Flintsones’s tonight I’m going to need a new outfit.

Man:  Didn’t I just skin a tiger for you the other day?

Woman:  Yes and I heard Fred killed a tiger from that same herd.  I’m not going to be wearing the same skins Wilma has on.  (Author’s note again: I know a group of tigers is not called a herd but my research budget for this article has already been reached.  Get over it!)

Man:  Oh, man!

Woman:  And, Grrgg, I want a Sabertooth skin!

Man:  Okay, fine!  Women!

Woman: (rolls her eyes and shakes her head)

So, there you have it, undeniable proof that woman have been obsessed with clothing down through the ages.  And I’ll bet you if we took a look into the future you would see a woman in a space ship buying new clothing every time she and her husband were going to take off for a new planet.  Yup! I just looked, it’s true!

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Here are some are some more funny quotes from Mae West and some have quite a lot of truth as well.  She was an American actress from 1893-1980 and she was definitely ahead of her time:

I’ve been in more laps than a napkin.

If I asked for a cup of coffee, someone would search for the double meaning.

It ain’t no sin if you crack a few laws now and then, just so long as you don’t break any.

It isn’t what I do, but how I do it. It isn’t what I say, but how I say it, and how I look when I do it and say it.

It takes two to get one in trouble.

It’s not the men in my life that count, it’s the life in my men.

Look your best – who said love is blind?

Love conquers all things except poverty and toothache.

Love isn’t an emotion or an instinct – it’s an art.

Love thy neighbor – and if he happens to be tall, debonair and devastating, it will be that much easier.

Marriage is a great institution, but I’m not ready for an institution.

One and one is two, and two and two is four, and five will get you ten if you know how to work it.

Opportunity knocks for every man, but you have to give a woman a ring.

Personality is the glitter that sends your little gleam across the footlights and the orchestra pit into that big black space where the audience is.

Personality is the most important thing to an actress’s success.

Save a boyfriend for a rainy day – and another, in case it doesn’t rain.

Sex is emotion in motion.

She’s the kind of girl who climbed the ladder of success wrong by wrong.

Ten men waiting for me at the door? Send one of them home, I’m tired.

The best way to hold a man is in your arms.
The score never interested me, only the game.

Those who are easily shocked should be shocked more often.

To err is human, but it feels divine.

Too much of a good thing can be taxing.

Too much of a good thing can be wonderful.

When I’m good I’m very, very good, but when I’m bad, I’m better.

When women go wrong, men go right after them.

You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.

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