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OK, everyone has met that person. The one who just shares way too much. I mean, it is OK to share with your spouse, your boyfriend, whoever you happen to be banging at the time. But your co-workers? Draw a fucking line! No, wait, better yet, build a brick wall. It is bad enough that I can pretty much tell you the monthly cycle of all 150 women I work with. Ucky, ucky, ucky.
Now I have been called a frigid bitch by some of my exes. But to those who really know me, I am about as much a prude as Mother Theresa was a Satanist. My point is that none of this comes from me thinking that sex belongs in the bedroom and nowhere else. Not at all! (By the way, if you ever come to my house for dinner, you might not want to eat off the kitchen counter.)
Back to my story. I happen to work with someone who is slightly younger than her spouse. (And when I say "slightly younger", please read "She listens to Stone Temple Pilots; he was there at the creation of Stonehenge.") Nothing wrong with that, right? Not in itself. They have kids. Great, how sweet. Happy marriage? That is great. Over active sex life? Um. Well. OK. Swell. Has everyone seen Big Daddy? You know Adam Sandler, yelling "Old balls!". Yeah, there is the visual. Every excruciating, sick, twisted, perverted, pruny detail.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." It must be. I see Colonel Sanders, she thinks he is Sean Connery. (So much for THAT fucking fantasy!) "To each, their own." Again, yep. Just keep it to your own! Let me set it up for you. Because I know that you think I am over reacting. You are picturing Jessica Simpson, having a nice, active sex life, with, say, Al Pacino. No, picture Deliverance. Only Ned Beatty is the chick here.
So, what does any of this have to do with the subject line you ask? One particular detailed conversation outlined how he thought he was too old and flaccid for her. And she said if he were any harder and bigger, he would hurt her, and since he was asking, she didn't think he needed blueberries.
Blueberries? OK, I admit, that one had me stumped. Viagra? They are little blue pills, right? Wrong! It seems that blueberries, as well as some other dark berries, contain a natural aphrodisiac. Aha! Redneck Viagra!
At least this experience solved one major mystery. The popularity of IHOP. I will never be able to eat another blueberry blintze.
Unless, of course, I am at home and on my kitchen counter.
