Monday, July 24, 2006

Oprah and Gayle

So, Gail says that if Oprah was a man she would have married her. HAH! Shame on her. Gail knows (just as I know you all know) if Oprah was a man he would never talk with her on the phone four times in one day. At least not after they had been having sex for awhile.

Ladies, please do not fall for that "my husband/boyfriend is my best friend" garbaage. Husbands and boyfriends are NOT, under any circumstances, to EVER be considered your best friend for the following reasons:

1. If your hubby is your best friend, when he runs off with some hottie and breaks your heart, whose couch are you going to sit on, bawling your eyes out and smoking cigarettes? His?? I think not. His new 'best friend' is sitting on that couch now & I don't think she wants you ashing your Newport lights on her carpet.

2. When your hubby or boyfriend acts like a butt-head, who exactly are you going to call and explain/analyze his idiot like behavior with? Him? I'm sure he will be oh-so sympathetic.

3. When your husband/boyfriend's mother/brother/sister/best friend does something completely annoying and he takes their side who do you get to bitch to? Him? Not gonna happen.

4. How much fun do you think your man would have discussing whether McDreamy or Dr. Burke is the hottest doctor on Grey's anatomy?

5. It is no fun to borrow their clothes.

6. If he dumps you, who is going to set you up with cute guys? Help you edit your profile on Match.com? Laugh hysterically at all the losers on the online dating sites? Not him! Your 'best friend' will be too busy trying to post his own damn profile.

7. If your husband or boyfriend is your best friend they are of no use whatsoever in helping you analyze/understand why you have such rotten taste in men.

8. He can't go into that big huge open fitting room they have at Loehmanns & tell you if your ass looks as fat as you think it does in low rider white terrycloth Juicy sweat pants. You would have to go outside the fitting room and show him (and the rest of the store) thus increasing your humiliation factor by 100 percent.

9. Best friends should not have back hair, read the sports page while sitting on the john, or be capable of 'hocking a loogie'

10. Jen Aniston, Halle Berry, Hillary Swank, and Uma Thurman all said those dreaded words "he's my best friend" and we all know how those relationships turned out...

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Where the Boys Are (Not)

I am officially starting a new cyber column here at HeWontCommit. In my search for a shiny new boyfriend-or, who am I kidding- used and scuffed is fair game as well, I have hit upon a new strategy, namely to go out places, rather than sit at home. Feel free to write in any suggestions in the comments section, especially our friend in Fairfield, who has faithfully checked for updates. The goal is to prove Mrs. BeenThere wrong, and score some hot dates. If you're not counting along with me, we are at 2 dates in a year and a half. That is what I would officially call a slump. So, I will make an attempt to drag myself out. Not without complaint, mind you.

My first step is to finally get that internet profile/photo up on Nerve.com, although I have a still few reservations. I was initially excited, as I learned that Nerve personals are linked with some other personals sites, like the Onion and New York magazine. Then one of my clients informed me that Nerve is more of a sex and erotica publication and that an overwhelming majority of members are looking for hook ups and short term relationships. That sucks. Why would a woman go through the trouble of uploading her information to get a hook up? Last I knew, all it took was a push-up bra and a trip to the nearest Irish bar.
So I'm not looking forward to it. The last thing I need is to go all the way downtown to eat a free salad so some guy can put his hand down my pants.
Not that I'm a prude, mind you, it's just that after I've been with someone for 5 years, sex and the related acoutrements have taken on a new prerequisite: intimacy. The thought of a random, probing tongue is unappealing, comical even.

OK, Maybe I have become a prude. I feel like I have been re-virginalized. Perhaps my hymen has grown back, even. And this second time around, I just don't feel like sharing bodily fluids with anyone that doesn't pass the smell test. So I'm willing to try online dating, but sorry, no action on the first date. As my Grammy Harriet said, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" Or maybe it was "Don't be a slut."

In the mean time, I can rely on fantasy boyfriends until I meet that special someone. I can always watch Richard Gere in 'Unfaithful' one more time, or get all worked up watching Gray's Anatomy where I can't choose between Dr. Burke, McDreamy, and the sexy jerky guy. Any other readers here try Nerve?