Are you afraid to say the three words that will change your relationship forever?

Even if you really really are dying to say them?

Well, never you worry. Here are five ways to express the sentiment without actually going out on a limb:

1. Shave Your Body Hair into a Heart Shape.

If you’re a man, give some shape to your beard; if you’re a hairy man, shape your chest hair into a heart. If you’re a woman with dark arm hair, shave your message into it; if you have light hair, get creative down there!

2. Let Your Booty Do the Talking.

Women are always wearing sweatpants with messages written on their seats. But remember: love is not gender-specific. We all love; we can all wear pairs of pants that say “I love you” on their asses!

3. Buy the object of your affection a giant, heart-shaped mug with something corny written on it.

This will be especially effective if he/she enjoys coffee or tea. Nothing says “I love you” like a bear on a mug saying, “I love you.”

4. Learn how to blow heart-shaped smoke rings.

Then, when you’re smoking either hookah or a cigarette with your mate, blow the rings at them. He/She will be impressed and enamored!

5. Buy a pair of sunglasses with heart-shaped and pink-tinted lenses.

Then, when you go out for a nice, casual Sunday stroll, you can offer your love the glasses. When he/she asks why he/she has to wear them, say that you want he/she to see the world as you see it when you look at him/her.

If these ideas let you down…

…and all else fails, just get on Google Translate and write down the translation to “I love you” in every language the free service has to offer. Then, convince your partner to sleep in the nude, wake up early, and use body paint to scrawl the message all over him/her. Just keep in mind that you’ll want to run like hell before he/she wakes up.

1st Photo, credit:Brandon Christopher Warren
2nd Photo, credit: bricehardelin
3rd Photo, credit: mik_p
4th Photo, credit: hilllisa23
5th Photo, credit: Éole
6th Photo, credit: Pink Sherbet Photography
7th Photo, credit: kaneda99

The proposer brought on the awesome Denver-based From the Hip Photo to help craft the message to his proposee.

From the Hip describes the project best:

“Ty was trying to think up a clever way to pop the question to his girlfriend, Marquita, when he stumbled upon the idea to do it via… StumbleUpon. The pair have a penchant for browsing the web via the social bookmarking service, which offers up random selections from across the web based on a user’s preferences. (We are actually big Stumblers, too, so we loved this idea!)

He wanted to create a web page with a series of photographs that would spell out his proposal and then have Marquita “randomly” Stumble the page. When Ty contacted the folks at StumbleUpon to see if they could engineer a tweak to deliver the page to his girlfriend at a specific date and time he was delighted to hear that they in to help him pop the question.”

via A StumbleUpon Marriage Proposal | From the Hip Photo.

I know what I’m doing; thus, I can tell you how to pretend to know what you’re doing (without actually knowing how to do it).

There are actual reasons for doing all the steps below and they are well-documented elsewhere. Consider this a handy cheat sheet.

With that in mind, this advice will seem much less silly in situations where you’re sitting face-to-face with a date who has good taste in wine and assumes you do, too.

If you look like you know what you’re doing, you’ll impress the socks off him or her!

So, here’s your explanation-free quick guide to what to do if you need to look like you know what you’re doing when tasting expensive wine.

Just do as I say without looking insecure, and you may even be mistaken for a level one sommelier! (A sommelier is a wine expert, just in case you were wondering).

The Five Ss

My process involves using what I’ll call “The Five “Ss” in the following order: Sight, Swirl, Smell, Swish, and Sip.

By doing so and nodding after each step like you’ve understood something secret and profound, you’ll pull this off with no problem.

Step 1: Sight

Whatever you do, don’t drink the wine straight away; you have to observe it first.

• Look at the wine. I mean really inspect it.
• Hold it up to eye-level (by the glass’s stem), and try to see through it.
• Nod slowly and slowly lower the glass to the table.

Step 2: Swirl

Turn your glass into a whirlpool:

• Once the glass is securely on the table, grasp its stem between your fingers once again.
• Then, without lifting your glass off the table (for safety purposes), gently swirl your wine around in your glass by moving the stem in little circles.
• Do this for at least three seconds.
• Nod.

Step 3: Smell

Now it’s time to smell your wine:

• Lift your glass and stick your nose as far into it as possible – the bigger your nose, the better.
• Make sure you get your nose out of there in time to exhale; it looks bad if you blow the wine around.
• Nod.

Step 4: Swish

Hooray! You can finally taste your wine!

• Take just a little bit of it into your mouth and hold it there.
• Swish it around like you’re trying to embalm your mouth with it.
• Make an “oooh! what a delightful surprise!” face.

Step 5: Sip

The hard work is all over.

If you need to say anything to your impressed partner, say, “what a lovely bouquet!” and move on. The rest is a piece of cake.

All you have to do now is sip the wine slowly for the rest of the evening, pacing yourself and nodding once in awhile.

Never gulp – always sip.

If you’re unsure whether you’re drinking too fast, just take a sip whenever your date does.

And that’s all there is to looking like you know how to appreciate good wine!

We all deserve the finer things in life, so I say fake it ’til you make it! If you keep doing this process, you’ll end up actually being able to appreciate good wine in no time

Now go out there and impress your date!

photo credit: 96dpi

In fact, it’s amazing to me that they get laid at all.

Women are all about feeling – the mood – when it comes to sex. If a guy’s room is scary, gross, weird, or too adorable (which is also weird), sex is a no-go activity.

This is probably why some women do what is now called “The Walk of Shame” when they make beelines to their homes from frat houses the morning after sex with its residents: they’re ashamed they’ve slept with guys who actually tacked posters of other naked women on their walls.

I’ve been in these frat house rooms. I’ve been in the rooms of musicians, athletes, engineers, painters, techies, you name it. All men’s rooms. Just friends.

But you know why many of them remained just friends? Because of their rooms. Because of that which they chose to adorn their walls with, that which they chose to allow me to see. Stupidly made decisions, really.

It’s not like I was licentious back then. But it was college, for God’s sake; if there was ever a time to have promiscuous sex, that was it – and let’s just say I was fully aware of this.

Anyhow, I’ve been majorly disappointed to find that earning a college degree is not directly proportional to emotional maturity.

And it’s not just the naked pinups – though I must just say this…if you’re a guy and you have a naked woman on a poster in your room or living room, most women just assume you’re fooling around with yourself when you’re alone with it.

And really, if a guy were getting some on a regular basis, would he need a poster to masturbate to? Honestly, tacking up a poster of a naked woman and masturbating to it is basically analogous to playing with an imaginary friend, and just as pathetic.

Plus, it’s a vicious cycle: No sex –> masturbate to poster –> woman comes in room and is grossed out by poster –> woman leaves -> no sex –> masturbate to poster.

It’s sad…

GET RID OF THE POSTER!

To continue:

Men still don’t know what they’re doing in their rooms. Even if they don’t put a pinup on the wall, there’s other things they do that freak women out. I’m not saying all women are freaked out by these things, but many are. So, here’s a list of things to avoid.

(And, not to worry, women are also at fault for sometimes booby trapping their rooms with pieces they consider pretty, romantic, or just plain “fun.” But these things are not fun, decorative, or pretty items. No. Men usually find them repulsive, scary, confusing, or even a combination of the three. But I’ll get to this…)

Let’s start with the men.

Hey men! Avoid these ten items and you’ll at least be on neutral ground:

1. Pinups – is there an echo?
2. Really dark paint colors
3. An absurd amount of technology – wires, large monitors, the works; from now on, you’re a minimalist.
   
4. Strange weaponry
5. Anything that makes you laugh because you think it’s disgusting, weird, or stupid
6. Giant posters of Bob Marley – unless you’re a Rastafarian and a pot-head
7. Posters of John Belushi drinking beer – it’s scary to find out that you glorify a character who poured a bottle of mustard down the front of his shirt
8. Trophies – your mom may have been super-impressed, but we consider your arrogance meter to climb a notch per trophy
9. Collection of beer and liquor bottles – they’re not decorations (not even the expensive ones); they just kind of say you have no actual interests and that you may or may not be an alcoholic.
10. A wall-sized movie poster of “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas”

Alright, and now for my gender: the ladies.

I’m sorry to admit that we can also be totally clueless in the decoration department.

A man may find a woman attractive because she’s feminine, but that usually only goes so far. You know you’ve gone overboard on the girly thing when you’ve forced your four-legged friends into pink dresses and decorated your habitat with the following:

1. Mosquito nets – yes, I have also fallen prey to this girly device (so this one is coming from personal experience). Men hate this damn thing, and I’m convinced it makes them dream of being manly fish caught in fishing nets; they all seem hell-bent on trying to escape from and destroy your mosquito net in their sleep.
2. An unbelievable amount of pink – sometimes too much pink can send men into anaphylactic shock
3. Dead flowers – these are creepy and either a little bit morbid to men, or they remind a man of his Great Aunt Mildred’s house (which also smelled weirdly)
4. Excessive amounts of pillows
5. All the stuffed animals you’ve ever been given – these are especially unsavory when each comes with a personal history
6. Anything involving unicorns or rainbows – you had a chance to decorate your room with these things when you were five; that chance has passed.
7. A collection of Disney-related items – they say, ‘She’s not sexy.’ And if you are otherwise sexy and have this stuff, they say, ‘She’s creepy sexy.’
8. A gigantic photo collage on the wall with pictures of all your friends, ex-boyfriends, and everyone you’ve every met
9. Giant, paper mâché lights in various shapes – stars are the worst…unless they make heart-shaped ones (then those would be the worst)
10. 1950s-style posters with pictures of different women, looking all 1950s-house-wifey, next to ironic, dry-humored captions

And if you find yourself with a man or a woman who adores your room just the way it is, I suggest you marry that person. Because, while you may think I’m just clueless in my composition of these lists, that members of the opposite sex can tolerate your gender’s annoying decorative preferences, they can’t, and you’ve found yourself someone who is likely to be highly sought after as he/she has the supernatural gift of being able to tolerate just about anything.

Che Guevara Bed Photo  photo credit: Xtream_i

Favorite kiss from the clip: Antonio Banderas and Catherine Zeta-Jones from “The Mask of Zorro.”

Favorite fact from the clip: How X came to be a symbol for “kiss.”

Sex comes in many different flavors.

There’s loving and caring sex, adventurous sex, quick and spontaneous sex, neighborly sex, friendship sex, acrobatic sex, sex that follows from responding to one of those creepy Craig’s List ads in its “Missed Connections” section, etc.

And then there’s pornographic sex.

Pornographic sex is in a whole different category, I think. It involves people who are viewing, people who are filming, people who are thrusting with thespian motives…

I cannot watch porn.

I tried to watch porn, this foreign porn movie, I guess it was.

First, I was embarrassed to be watching porn, even though no one knew I was watching it; I kept looking around, and then, when I saw no one was judging me, I started judging myself because I thought, someone has to judge me; I mean, I’m watching raunchy Barcelonan porn.

Then, I had to be hard on myself for my lack of productivity. I was stern and had one part of my thinking self scold the other part – I have no idea how many parts of my thinking self there are, but there were only two active in this scenario, in case you were curious: It said:

Hey, Tasha. What the hell do you think you’re doing? What’s the point of watching porn if you’re going to be a nervous wreck the entire fucking time?

Inadvertently, though, the tension was dissolved with the comic relief provided by the pun, “fucking time.” Both parts of my thinking self reunited, hand-in-hand, and settled back down to the pornographic movie.

It appeared as though the cast – 6 young women and two young men – were taking advantage of their hotel and spa’s co-ed hot tub amenities. Everyone was getting naked – I couldn’t tell the two men apart, but the women were easily distinguished by their varying breast sizes. Most women had large bosoms and floppy bodies, though there was one woman who was the thinnest woman I think I’ve ever seen (she was virtually bosom-less).

I couldn’t take my eyes off of that woman. She was so thin that she looked emaciated – I was getting worried about her as the seconds passed; I hoped she was one of those naturally skinny women – one of those women who always tried to gain weight, the way other women work their asses off to lose it.

Then, the whole mood of the movie took a turn when the women all started making out with one another, and the men (kind of). I observed the scene with as much wonder as Diane Fossey had when she watched gorillas for the first time ever.

I wasn’t turned on. I was a little weirded out, actually. It would have been a perfect time to cock one eyebrow, but I never had that kind of muscle talent. So instead, I furrowed both eyebrows as best as I could. I was thinking that if anyone were to walk in on me, or if someone had, for some reason, planted some tiny spy camera in my room and was or would be watching me watch this crazy-ass orgy movie, they would know that I was an innocent, absolutely perplexed by it all.

I started brainstorming what I could say if it ever came up, so I could be half-surprised, totally-prepared by someone watching me watch porn.

I decided I’d go with, I downloaded this internet porn because I thought it was a foreign film – it was, but not the right kind.

photo credit: derpunk

I wondered if male porn stars were usually more attractive than these two and if that’s why people enjoyed watching porn movies so much.

Two answers to that one:

1. No, people like sex and watching sex, and
2. I’m regarding the American interest in American porn and there’s no way in hell any foreign porn stars could be sleazier and awkwardly attractive in a more disturbing way than American male porn stars; I don’t care what anyone says.

And then, my attention was diverted back to the screen again as the making out got crazier with the appearance of tongues all over the place, not necessarily licking anything.

This just grossed me out. I have a hard time sharing a glass with anyone, even; I’m very careful about whose saliva I allow near myself and the things my saliva will be coming into contact with – other people’s saliva is just nasty when it becomes communal.

But that’s when I noticed that the ridiculously thin girl’s tongue was missing out on the action. And it’s not like she wanted it to be.

There were two men, six women, and the thin girl seemed to be getting shafted. Or not. Whichever way you want to look at it.

The puns were popping into my head like there was no tomorrow.

I couldn’t help but compare her to a newborn puppy that was trying to feed, but couldn’t get to its mother’s nipples because all the other puppies were sucking on them.

I started getting incensed, taking the side of this emaciated underdog, wishing someone would just take pity and lick her or something.

Even when they moved to the conveniently-placed, folding beach chairs in a nearby room that I couldn’t decide was indoors or outdoors, and the guys started going at it, each with one of the women, and the other women worked to fondle the woman whose turn it was to be…”done,” no one fondled more generously than the thin girl.

And it seemed unfair because when it was her turn, the other girls did not repay the favor.

And, her time with the guy seemed too short, really, in comparison with the time the other girls got – unfairly short, really.

I felt bad for her. Then I got angry with her.

Have some self-respect!, I shouted at the screen, knowing she couldn’t hear me, and that even if she did, she wouldn’t understand me because I don’t speak Catalan. Walk away if you’re not wanted!

I gestured wildly as I shouted this.

It’s just not right how you’re being treated.

Then, with a sigh, I threw up my hands in resignation.

It was her decision.

I hoped she was getting paid handsomely for this, at least – she deserved the money more than the other cast members, as she was definitely committed to her work.

I watched the movie for about two more minutes before I had to shut it off, bored out of my mind and ironically very turned sexually off.

So that was porn, I thought.

And from this experience, I’ve concluded that I’m way too neurotic to watch anything like it ever again.

For a 24 year old who started dating at age 16, I’ve been on way more than most people my age. If I hadn’t eventually found a boyfriend (who I did NOT meet as a result of a blind date), and kept going on blind dates at this rate, by the time I turned 60, I would have gone on approximately 38 blind dates. So, by this logic, you could practically call me an expert on blind dates and dating.

And I’ve never been on a good blind date.

The thing is that I started out as  one of those people who was just “up for anything.” And, I suppose one of the blind dates may have worked out if one of the guys I’d been set up with was also from the “up for anything” stock. But, sadly, I think I was set up with myriad guys because being “up for anything” seemed more accepting than “attractive and choosy.”

Anyhow, there’s a list of reasons why none of them worked out, but I’d like to alert those yentas out there who are looking to get their possibly oddly-matched friends together to start a romance that,

The idea isn’t to go: Well, we’ll see! This could be hilarious!

The idea is to go: Alright, it’d be great if this worked out, but if it doesn’t, will my friend/s ever trust and/or talk to me again?

And the thing is, I walked away from nearly every blind date with a different opinion of the matchmaker.

So, to save you from such shame, I’ve devised a 7-Step system for setting your friends up in good faith:

Step 1: Acquire a recent, wallet sized picture of each of your friends.

Even if you have to  take new ones for the cause – your friends will preferably be facing in opposite directions in the pictures. Then, when no one’s around, hold the pictures side-by-side, in such a way so that your friends appear to be facing one another. Then, as though you were a little kid and having your action figures/dolls talk to one another, pretend they’re having a conversation.

Then ask yourself these questions:

• How did the conversation go?
• Did they seem like they could be a couple? That they matched?
• Did your friends like one another?
• Who thought who was hot?

Write down your answers and analyze to determine whether the conversation was successful. If it turned out not to be, take pictures of some of your other single friends and start all over again.

Step 2: Show each person the picture you took of his/her potential mate.

Ask what he/she thinks. Take notes. If the feedback is good for both parties, you may proceed to Step 3.

Step 3: Make a list of the reasons you think the two would get along.

And, if the only reason is that they both think the other is good looking, you’re in trouble – unless, that is, your friends are the vapid, soulless types.

Then, beside that, make a list of all the things they might fight about – if any of the issues seem big to you, drop it.

Step 4: Present your case to each of your friends, as well as all of the research you’ve done.

This way, if the date doesn’t turn out, they won’t think you’re all that crazy.

Step 5: Sit each friend down and watch “The Science of Sex Appeal” by Nova with him/her.

It’s not too long a documentary, so you won’t get bored watching it twice – and, everyone can always learn a thing or two as to how to better attract the opposite sex, so you’ll be benefiting as well from it.

Step 6: Arrange the meeting time and place, and try to have your own date to take.

I’ve only been on blind dates that were also double dates – that was much less awkward than if I had been left alone with some stranger – I’m not that great of a conversation starter. Besides, if the date goes well, the new lovebirds can just separate after the main activity.

Now, when you’re choosing a setting, make sure of the following:

• There’s something that both parties will like about it
• There aren’t any weird events going on there at the time you’re scheduling for the event
• It isn’t too snazzy or casual
• It is accommodating to conversation

Step 7: Things to do right before the date, perhaps the day before:

• Analyze your friends’ disgusting habits. And although they shouldn’t be glaring (or you’ll be in trouble), caution your friends against having them during the date, as tactfully or bluntly as needed. Remember, your sanity and reputation as a yenta is on the line.

• Make sure your friends look as close as possible to the pictures you took of them – Guys especially need help in this department, as they sometimes become bored with their facial hair and can go from preppy to mountain man in a matter of days, which is totally uncool to spring on the person you’re setting him up with (Sorry, Daria, I never meant to set you up with that chia pet over there; I didn’t know he could grow a shamanic beard that quickly – I swear to god he was clean-shaven last week!)

• Smell your friends and make sure they’re prepared to shower before the date; remind them that no scent is alluring in strong doses and that Dove Ivory Soap is not a perfume/cologne.

• Give them each a manipulative pep talk. A manipulative pep talk is much like a regular pep talk, except that it emphasizes the points you want the person to emphasize on his/her date, and pokes fun at the annoying/disgusting habits of that person, as though you didn’t know he/she did those things. Example: “He’s going to love you! You’re witty and charming and gorgeous! You’re not like every other girl he’s met who adjusts her boobs every three minutes and is obsessed with text messaging other people when you’re with him, you know?”

• Ask what he/she is planning on wearing. If it’s funky weird, suggest something else. Otherwise, just make minor suggestions, so that their clothes look as close as possible to those they were wearing in the pictures.

After you’ve successfully performed Step 7, there is nothing left for you to do. You’ve done everything you could and, in my opinion, you cannot be blamed in the unlikely event that the date bellies up.

But, don’t be surprised if they get married or something; if and when they do, you have the authority to take full credit for it and should demand some kind of honorary position in the ceremony.

Photo courtesy of  wouter_kersbergen

Most people that I’ve asked haven’t seen, or even heard of the film “I.Q.,” a delightful romantic comedy starring Walter Matthau, Meg Ryan, and Tim Robbins. And I think this is why most people, when they fall in love, don’t have the sudden urge to roll around in a field.

And, because most of my readers probably haven’t seen this adorable film either, I feel I should provide a brief synopsis of it:

Walter Matthau is Albert Einstein, Meg Ryan is Catherine Boyd, his niece, and Tim Robbins is an automobile mechanic named Ed. Ed falls in love at first sight with Catherine, who’s engaged to a stuffy scientist no one likes. Einstein wants Catherine to be with Ed because he thinks Ed’s a great guy – better than the stuffy guy that no one likes – but she’s engaged to the stuffy guy no one likes because she thinks he’s really smart and she wants to have smart babies. So, Einstein and his three genius friends dress Ed up like a scientist and tell the world that he’s figured out how to get a spacecraft to run on cold fusion – to convince Catherine that he’s an intellectual.

And, if the premise doesn’t sound fabulous enough that you’ve just exploded out of your house and spirited to the local video store to rent the film (no time to Netflix it!), then you should know that Tony Shalhoub is also in the film – and he’s always wonderful, even without a bushy mustache (he’s clean shaven here – it’s the 50s).

So, at a certain point during the film, Catherine and Ed roll around on a grassy field in front of Eisenhower, the secret service, and all the genius people.

It’s not a love scene, per se…

But watching it makes you want to roll around on a field for the following reasons:

• The grass looks really soft in the film
• Catherine and Ed don’t really get dirty, so why should anyone else?
• It seems like a swell summer activity (or a swell, any-season activity, if you live in Florida)
• Rolling around with another person (you have to kind of embrace each other) keeps the centrifugal force going for much longer than if you roll around by yourself
• It’ll bring out your inner child, and possibly give rise to riotous giggling (just make sure you giggle closed-teeth, or the giggling may have unpleasant side effects for your partner)

Things to Double Check Before Rolling Around On A Field:

• That it hasn’t rained in a couple days
• That it won’t rain while you’re rolling around
• That there aren’t any ball-oriented sports’ matches nearby
• That your partner doesn’t weigh twice as much as you do
• That the field isn’t hosed down with pesticides
• That people don’t walk their dogs on that field

Also, I don’t know if this makes a difference, but “I.Q.” takes place in New Jersey. I’ve never been to New Jersey, but the grass may be softer there, or the fields more lush. But either way, the field in this film seems to have ideal rolling-around conditions. So, if you see a field such as the one featured in “I.Q.,” I highly recommend you do your rolling-around activities in it, as opposed to in a bog, or the Everglades, or some such place.

“I Can Transform Ya,” a Chris Brown hip hop hit, speaks of romantic devotion.

Chris Brown sings of financially and emotionally supporting a broke, but beautiful woman, naive to the power of sexual attraction, so that she can blossom into a glamourous strumpet.

THE CASE FOR REVISION

Unfortunately, it’s difficult to make out a lot of the lyrics because of their egregious grammatical and spelling errors.

I’ve gone ahead and taken care of some of them, hopefully making the whole thing a tinge more intelligible.

I purposefully selected a Chris Brown song for this article, though it is only one of the myriad grammatically-horrifying hip hop singles presently popular:

I didn’t want to pick on just any performer; I do enjoy a great deal of hip-hop music. But, Chris Brown being the domestically abusive swine that he is, decidedly earns a position as the butt of jokes.

And, apparently, this song’s inspiration was the movie, “Transformers.” How sweet.

Who knew Chris Brown was such a film buff?!

Anyhow, it’s time to make this masterpiece more or less grammatically correct!

THE OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO

If you’d like, you can listen to the original lyrics while reading along with the revisions below:

LYRICS EDITED FOR GRAMMAR AND SPELLING: I CAN TRANSFORM YOU

[Lil Wayne]
Hey Little mama,
I can transform you,
I can’t dance, but I can dance on you,
Swiss (Maybe means “switch?”) on the beats, Chris move your feet,
and baby I can transform you from into him and into me,
I can change your life, make it so new,
make you never want to turn back into your former self,
Ciroc and lime, give it a little time,
and she will transform like Optimus Prime,

[Chris Brown]
Do you need a car? I can give you a Range Rover.
How about money? I can give you some change.
You can drive and no longer have to be the passenger,
Is your swag (not clear on meaning of “swag”) low? I can build you up,
I’ll be both of your knees and keep you standing up.
I like your red lips and red dress because they are red like a fire truck.

What you need, you can have it.
My black card won’t be declined,
And I see potential in you,
That I’d like to mould.

I can transform you like I can make a transformer transform.
I can transform you,
I can transform you,
Anything that you want, i can get it for you,
You’re my baby girl, so you should’ve known I would do that for you,
I can trans, I can trans, I can transform you,

Shoes? you can have them (can have them)
Bags? you can have them (can have them),
cars? you can have them (can have them),
money? you can still it (have it),
I can transform you, I can transform you,
Anything you want, I can (i can) get it for you,

See me in the video you can have it really though,
iced out everything, like an eskimo,
If you want to fly, we can go anywhere you want to go,
Jimmy Choos in Italy, Louie V in Tokyo,

I’m something like Pinnochio,
if you lay down I will grow,
Would you like to see me grow big?
i can show you how the process goes,
I’ll take you from being an amateur to being a professional,
(I can have you swag surfing (?)– autotune)

What you need, you can have it.
My black card won’t be declined,
And I see potential in you,
That I’d like to mould.

[Chorus]

[Lil Wayne]
Ok,
I can transform you like a transformer,
I can turn you from a human to a Carter,
Take you off the bench and turn you into a starter,
Then take you home and put you on a charger,
Then (then) my cars transform into a charter,
and we can fly to the places you’ve always wanted to go,
hehe, I’ll take you somewhere that’s warmer,
then I have to rip off your dress like a warm up,
hehe, but I’m just getting warmed up,
so tell your man he better get his voltron up,
“I will transform her into a Ducati and then transform myself into a Bugatti,
because her body puts me into a trance,
When I transform into a smaller version of myself, she puts me inside her pants,
Switch on the Beat, Chris move your feet
and together, we can transform a good girl to a freak.

AN EDITOR’S NOTE

Note that while I’d love to fully edit this, it would take far too long. Thus, the above copy has only been proofread for spelling and grammar. Most of the original slang and misogyny has been left intact.

photo credit: kelvin255

photo credit: mdanys

Dear irresponsible parents of noisy and rambunctious children,

I have an appeal for you. Well, two actually. And then, I’d like to close with a little motivational information for you.

Please read the entire appeal, even if you don’t want to hear it…I have to listen to your children – the noisy and rambunctious children of the world – for hours sometimes when I absolutely don’t want to; it seems only fair you read this letter, which should only take a few minutes.

Appeal #1: Stop bringing your children to cafés. Maybe the babysitter is sick. Maybe you are tired and trying to suck the energy out of your coffee latte before undergoing three hours of pushing Billy or Daisy on the swing.

Not only do I understand, but I’ll even give you a hug, if you’d like.

*Hugs!*

Okay, but now that you realize how nice and understanding I usually am, try to reciprocate just a little bit.

Do you see me over there working? Or that guy who’s reading and keeps snarling periodically as he glares over the top edge of his page. He has been trying to read that page for the last half hour. And I’ve read that book; it’s good and a quick read.

There are also two men over there in the corner – they are the only ones in here with ties on, if you hadn’t noticed…by the look of them and the attachés at their shiny-shoed feet, I’d say they were having a meeting.

(Usually, meetings are scheduled events with time constraints. Sometimes people will even travel across the world to have them!)

Now, if I can’t hear myself think because your noisy and rambunctious bundle of love is screaming his head off and running around the cafe tables, I tend to believe that those two men can’t hear one another.

Maybe you could do something about that?

Appeal #2: If you simply must take your noisy and rambunctious bundle of love to the café – to the potential detriment of everyone else’s day – would you mind teaching the noisy and rambunctious bundle of love the golden rule or something?

If you don’t know how to and are looking for an example, maybe I can help you with an idea. Give your noisy and rambunctious bundle of love a toy; then, when he starts playing with it, pick it up, wander around absent-mindedly with it, then act like you’re going to give it back… and then wander around absent-mindedly again. Then explain that such a thing is equivalent to the torment café-goers are subjected to when there’s screaming and running around them.

Now, I’d like you to know that since you decided to start bring your noisy and rambunctious bundles of love to the cafe, condom sales have gone through the roof.

I’ve spoken to several people in their mid-20s about the prospect of child-rearing and found that only a select few were gung ho to have children (many did want offspring a few years ago, but recently gritted their teeth and said, “mmm…never mind…”).

One of them said he was saving up for a vasectomy.

And of those potential future parents, all have vowed (without prompt, I might add) to never let their children run amuck in cafés, disturbing would-be reproducers, and that they would teach their children either the golden rule, or about its eastern cousin, karma.

I just thought I’d let you know, on behalf of the stressed out café-goers of the world, that we love you, have compassion for you, but really really would prefer to spend our cafe experience as we’d envisioned it when we bought our espresso drinks and fruity green teas – not wallowing in our own self-pity at the prospect of sharing the cafe with your noisy and rambunctious bundle of love for however much longer you decide to have your oblivious coffee klotch.

I’m done now.

Sincerely,

Tasha N. Shayne