Baseball and Sex

Here's one for guys...and for the benefit of girls.

Do you remember how baseball bases were used as a metaphor for getting "lucky" with a woman? It was the way you once referenced how far you got with your girlfriend, back when you were in middle school, in high school, you know, back when you were a juvenile, like, say around the ages of 12 to 62.

Well, it's a good lesson for everyone in figuring out how to have good sex. For instance, even if you're not a big baseball fan, it's common knowledge that there are three bases and one plate...the natural progression is to hit first, go to second, then to third, then finally come to home plate.

When you were referencing your love luck, first base was a kiss, second base involved the breasts, third involved the vagina, and a trip around all four to home plate was a homerun, or going all the way, or intercourse, or a prelude to a life of misery because you forgot your batter's glove and just had to swing away.....way ahead of the pitch, an early swing, and now you sit in the dugout as a manager, never playing or having fun anymore.

Well, when you hit a homerun, for it to be official, you have to touch all the bases, going from first through home plate. This is the natural order and shouldn't be reversed. You don't want to hit a homerun, then go to third, because that's gonna be messy and God knows you don't want to go head first into the bag after that mess. Going to second after a homerun makes you seem like a boob freak with "mother" issues, and if you've hit a homerun, dug into third and hit second again, you damn sure don't want to get anywhere near first because someone's most likely gonna hit you when you get there.

Instead, you've gotta savor the moment, you know, like Barry Bonds when he hits one he knows is going out. You KNOW when you're about to hit a homerun, so don't rush it. No one is going to try to throw you out, so you need to really take some time to take it all in, to gingerly round those bases to the sounds of appreciation and cheers (and if you do it with style, you might be asked to come back out for a bow). First, you gotta look up and watch it happen. Stare deeply into the darkness, those eyes, and really give it a look and smile a little. You slowly head towards first, and that's where the best finesse can be used. Lean into it a little, keep your head down and angled a bit, but up enough to keep the connection with the fans. Hit the first base bag right, and you can bob on over to second. For some, this is the best part, because you're closest to the outfield, far away from the concrete stands and closer to the grass, so it's a little cooler here. There's two people on either side of second, so pay close attention to both of them as you go around, not just one. You'll know they've responded to your efforts if there standing straight up and staring at you, not happy that you've scored but they damn sure respect the fact that you're the man. They may even give you a little slap as you go by in appreciation. Now you're coming to third...literally. Sometimes you're closer to her dugout at this point, though it's perfectly fine if your dugout is getting equal attention at this time. This is perhaps the least appreciated portion of rounding the bases, because the cameras on TV make a cut to a different angle at this point. Because of this, the proper method of rounding third is largely unknown to most amateurs, but is greatly skilled practice of professionals. Some people like to hit the outside edge of the bag, some like to go right down the middle, some just tip the top edge of the bag because that's the best spot, the one that responds the best off of the tap. Now, you're on your way home. It's a useless effort if you don't make it all the way to the bag. If you turn towards your dugout too early, you don't score and that makes the dugout mad and depressed, all in one. No, appreciate this part. Come into it slow, trot a little, maybe go in with a skip, perhaps hop into it, maybe you can speed your pace a little faster as you approach, some just hit it hard with an emphasis and a smile. No matter how you hit it, be sure it's the way that works for you, because no one really gets as much out of it as you do, while some get their kicks just seeing the man come into the plate.

Soemetimes, though, it's permissible to not even come all the way around. There are times when the game has gone on too long, no one has scored for so very long, and the tension is mounting. It's the bottom of the 18th, the bases are loaded, and it's all up to you. You get the perfect pitch, because it's so late and has been so long that the defenses are down and you get a hanging curveball dropping down into the zone as you start to take that swing. In this case, you just swing away as hard as you can, give it all you can, and let it go. Here, no one cares about style. You've emptied the bags, the opponent is drained, and the crowd goes wild. You still have to touch first, out of respect, but you can collapse right there because it's all over, and it's time to go to bed.

Enjoy.

Women

You can't live with them, and you can't get them to wear skimpy outfits and beat you with a warm squash. - Emo Phillips

Thanks to my decade of failed relationships with women, I've developed a working knowledge of how they work. It's not that I'm really good; rather, I've learned pretty much every way possible to piss off women. I'm so good that I've earned a PhD in "Eloquence and Subtlety of Speech Communications" also more informally known as "knowing when the fuck to shut up". My dissertation was supposed to be about all of things men have ever said to women that was technically and ethically acceptable to women. Sadly, though, the requirement was for sixty pages, and I couldn't get more than one sentence...the only thing ever said to a woman that was correct was "I agree with you". That's about it. Conversely, I changed the topic to "things men have said that are incorrect". After working for months, I abandoned the project in fear that I'd rob the planet of much needed trees.

I'm proud of the fact that I've never had an affair or left a girlfriend when she was in a time of need. My girlfriends seem to be much prouder of something else.

They say men and women are like cats and dogs. It's true. One group is made up of a pack of bitches, forcing the other to turn into a bunch of pussies.

Dating

I finally summoned up the courage to ask a girl out on a date today. She looked at me and said, "now's not really a good time".

So, I came back five minutes later and asked again. Apparently, that wasn't a good time, either, because she just slammed the door on me.

I like this girl a lot, but to say I'm thinking about her all the time is incorrect. There are huge pockets of time while I'm sleeping that I don't think about her at all.

Roommates

Another reason I'm pissed off is because of my roommates, man. I mean, these people just get on your last goddamned nerve. It's bad enough I'm a teacher and can't afford the basic necessities of life, like a car, gasoline, food, and water, but I've gotta live with these nosy fucks who rummage through my shit all day long while I'm at work.

Do you have one of those types of roommates? One of those that goes through your stuff? Sometimes you just wanna be like, "goddamnit, Dad, quit doing my fucking laundry! I'm almost 33 and I don't need someone to do it for me anymore! Tell Mom I'm going out for a while! Fuck!"

Blogs

I'm honestly aspiring to be a writer. To practice, I keep a blog, or journal, whatever you want to call it. Some people call it a manifesto, and I call those people the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms.

Seriously, though, I find blog to be a funny name. Do you know where the word blog comes from? It's short for "I don't have a fucking life". The less of a life I have, the more I find myself posting on this thing.

Cold

I gotta admit, women are good sports about pretty much everything. I'm not saying they have a sense of humor about it all, I'm just saying that they take everything so well, in stride.

I'll give you an example. The other day, I'm in the Dekalb Farmer's Market getting some tuna for dinner. You know, Yellowfin, not chicken of the sea of some shit, good stuff. Anyway, because of their fish section, they keep the place a nice, warm, 50 degrees.

As I'm looking around, I notice this girl who's probably six foot two, tall and lean. However, I immediately noticed that she was COLD. You know what I mean...things begin to dimple and point out? Yeah, she had goose bumps on her skin...come on. Her nipples were pointing out and were hard to ignore.

But she carried herself with such dignity, you know? She knew it, I knew it, but she refused to let her saluting zeppelins ruin her aire of refined grace. I began to notice this on more and more women, but they all, again, were stilll graceful in their ignorance of their visible chilliness.

Guys, what if we had the same problem. Not with nipples, but what if everytime we got cold we got a hard on? Could you imagine walking down the freezer aisle of your local supermarket with a raging hard on? Even if you did, would you just nonchalantly stride through the aisle with a giant ten pitched in you pants? As if no one could see it?

"Excuse me, 'scuse me, coming through. Sorry about that. No, nothing cold here, not cold a bit, if anything it's hot...HEY don't slam the freezer door shut like that? Can't you see I'm cold, lady? Dammit all!"

Drug Tests and Corporal Punishment

I bet you didn't know this one: they don't administer drug tests to teachers...ever. Not during the hiring process nor any random time during the year. I think it's high time that that changed, you know? Seriously, these are people shaping the future and we're allowing to live an unmitigated private life? Come on!

Doctor: Mr. McDonough, you test came back clean. I've got a couple of questions, though.

Me: Sure thing.

Doctor: What's your profession, again?

Me: I'm a teacher?

Doctor: Okay, I though so. My second question is, why aren't you taking your drugs?

I mean, if you're teaching and NOT on drugs, you need to see a doctor immediately for a prescription to SOMETHING. Those folks who do it and simply love it scare the SHIT out of me.

I think the reason I'm so on edge is because it's too late to turn back and do something else. It's either this, or I can continue living in my parent's basement for the rest of my life. My only fear, though, is that they bring back corporal punishment (not my parents but the school board). I don't want to spank anybody. Not because I don't think they deserve it, but in this day and age, you never know if they're going to like it, too. It be just my luck to have to administer something like that to a future bondage fanatic who starts screaming for joy with every brutal shot. "Yay! Yay! More!"

How do you explain that to a Board of Education?