I like Klimt. This painting (entitled "Um, where's her hand?") pretty much sums up my sex life. This artwork is elaborately erotic, with a name like Klimt...
Figure 1.1 Thighmaster, bah!
B-grade movie quote in order...
From "Back To School" after Rodney Dangerfield catches his unabashedly slutty wife fooling around on him, again.
Stranger looking at artwork: Your wife was just showing us her Klimt
Rodney: Yeah, she's been showing it to everybody!
When I zero in on a hairstyle I like, I wear it for a long time. One summer when I was a youngin' I wore the same hairstyle day after day. Mostly all down but I swept up the sides using a plastic clip. One day some guy decides he has to know how my hair looks when it's all down so he grabs at my clip. So I protest "Don't touch my clip!" and he responds "Don't touch your clit?" I should've left well enough alone. But I kept protesting with the same line and he kept responding with the same question. I dealt with this on an almost daily basis from different boys who, if you ask me, were just a little too easily amused Beavis-and-Butthead style.
Figure 1.2- Clip v. Clit
It's said that women speak in codes and men are direct. I'm here to testify that isn't true. Men speak in codes plenty. They're just dumb codes, easy to decipher. I'm home visiting my parents and instead of just asking me to clean up (you can't directly ask a modern woman to clean up), dumb codes.
Debbie's Brother: Should you wipe up the table or should I?
Note: Debbie didn't eat anything
Debbie's Dad: Debbie, I left some salad in a bowl on the counter. I wasn't sure what to do with it. I wasn't sure if you wanted it.
Debbie: Dad, it's half eaten. You have to throw this out.
Debbie's Dad: Oh
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