*slang noun in relation to physical beauty in place of a "perfect ten"
By Westmoreland
10. Chased Brother
Hey. I had what you might call an epiphany. First things first, though. (And this, here, is strictly for the ladies). Ol��� Dub-Delicious (or as I am known in the Southern States, Delicious-Dubya) would like to go on record. I am sorry. To paraphrase a famous Seinfeld episode: No soup for you!
I had an epiphany.
I was in bed one night (alone) and I was reading the paper. And I just started to think about what I really wanted in my life. The thing is I obsess over being married. I really do. I believe in marriage even as the statistics are exposing marriage as an futile institution for 60% of married couples. I don���t care about the pragmatism of being with only one woman for the rest of my life. I flat out believe in it.
I want one woman. One. I want her to be willful and independent, but I want her to be passionately irrational about me. I want her to go into uncontrollable shakes and trembles when someone mentions her husband���s name. I want her to suffer from flashes of raw lust when she hears my voice. I want her to sweat in anticipation of her husband returning home from the office. I am dead serious. And I want that with the same woman for the next, say 25 years. One day, I would like to drop my youngest son off at Morehouse College, fly back to an empty house in DC and do ungodly things to the woman who bore my babies. There is an eroticism evoked by the promise of marriage.
As an eccentric, I have faced up to not being main-stream. I have some quirks. The woman who commits to loving me, no matter what��� will be a woman cherished and revered. And I imagine that we will do it, a lot. And I mean the sweaty, grunting kind of doing it, too. And I am comfortable with the notion that some people do not hold claim to the same passion forever. That the flame extinguishes for some folks��� or whatever. Not me. I am a contrarian. There are a lot of things with which I have had long relationships that still make me excited. For example, I have been playing the piano since I was seven years old. I am turning 37, and I still love to bang those black keys.
Anyway, I know all about sex. No mystery there. I am sort of like an expert or whatever. No, really. I am not, you know, just good at it. I studied it. My mother had a copy of Woman���s Body. It was a big pink illustrated text book that explained all this technical stuff about chicks. My mother was also an elementary school teacher, so I was reading early. And I read a lot. Everything.
Anyway, one day she was out of the house, and I found her Woman���s Body book. And I read it. There was all of this explanation about the woman���s anatomy. The serious anatomy parts, though. I mean like where the on/off switches are located. Anyway, I was like 12 or so. I have always been a hacker (Tinker Toys, Erector Set, Chemistry Set), and it seemed like all this womanly business was a problem worth solving. I have read a lot of other -- woman's anatomy and sexuality -- books too. And I have read the occasional Cosmopolitan.
There are a lot of books that cover the woman���s sexuality as a problem set. And every woman is like a quiz or a curvy Rubik���s Cube. The Y chromosome renders dudes pretty simply ��� in terms of mechanics. Women, on the other hand, are systemically chaotic and complex. So, I have been on a quest to apply my research to the complete happiness of one woman. But what I have discovered in my quest is that coitus is not critical to the development of a long lasting relationship.
So, I thought about all of the things that I have put into a relationship. I have thought about all of the relationships that I have had. I have thought about where things could have gone wrong. I have assessed what I am really dating for in the first place. And the only thing that I can conclude is that pre-marital-sex is not helping me to get married. With respect to my past relationships, it just hasn���t provided an advantage for me to have had sex. It always complicates a relationship, somehow. I realized it has not delivered me anything more than I got, in say high school, when I had my first love but no lovin���. I am pushing forty, and I would really rather push a stroller.
So, I am not having (sigh) intercourse. Richard Cheney, the Vice President of the United States of America calls it abstaining. But, let me tell you something. It has got to be darn easier to abstain in Wyoming, where he is from. I mean, Wyoming? The closest foxy woman is in what, Texas? (I am exaggerating. I know that the closest foxy woman to Wyoming would, of course, be in Denver, Colo.) I live in Downtown DC, baby. And I have, what you might call, sex appeal. Sigh... Perhaps more than I need, too. I mean, I would never take advice from Dick Cheney about anything other than manipulating energy resources, dodging the draft, instigating global conflict or shooting attorneys in the face and then not reporting the incident for hours while the victim groaned and whined about the buckshot wounds in his face and neck. But in this case, Old Dick may be onto something.
I am not having sex in a city flooded with both highly sexy and overly sexualized members of the opposite sex. This is not going to be a walk in Rock Creek Park. Actually it might be like a walk in Rock Creek Park. They discovered a few years ago that Rock Creek Park has coyotes.
So, here sit I. A shaved head. A vow of poverty, and now, no nasty. Sigh... This had better work, too. I like doing the nasty. But you know, it's like the Rocky song "Eye of the Tiger." Eye of the tiger! For me, it���s same old same old: Boy sees goal, boy sacrifices something he loves to reach goal. What I needed next was a catchy way to convey my new approach to dating without mating.
So, I got this idea to focus group my ���No Nasty Now��� movement. The first person I told is my marketing guru friend. I was all���
ME: I am not going to have sex, until I get married. I think.
SHE_WAS_ALL: You are going to be chased.
ME: Sigh... I know. When the babes find out that I am not trying to get into their panties, they are all gonna come a���runnin���. Sigh...
SHE_WAS_ALL: No. I mean, you are going to be chased! Chased!
ME: Sigh...Yeah, I heard you. The women are going to lose their minds. But I need a way to describe it in a way that is still smooth��� you know? I don���t want to sound lame.
Then she explained that there was another way to describe not having sex, and that I should look up abstinence for the synonym��� blah, blah, blah. I had tuned her right out. I have an SAT verbal like a Porsche model number: In the 900s. But who needs a thesaurus to say ���I am not getting any���?
Chaste, huh?
By Westmoreland
10. Chased Brother
Hey. I had what you might call an epiphany. First things first, though. (And this, here, is strictly for the ladies). Ol��� Dub-Delicious (or as I am known in the Southern States, Delicious-Dubya) would like to go on record. I am sorry. To paraphrase a famous Seinfeld episode: No soup for you!
I had an epiphany.I was in bed one night (alone) and I was reading the paper. And I just started to think about what I really wanted in my life. The thing is I obsess over being married. I really do. I believe in marriage even as the statistics are exposing marriage as an futile institution for 60% of married couples. I don���t care about the pragmatism of being with only one woman for the rest of my life. I flat out believe in it.
I want one woman. One. I want her to be willful and independent, but I want her to be passionately irrational about me. I want her to go into uncontrollable shakes and trembles when someone mentions her husband���s name. I want her to suffer from flashes of raw lust when she hears my voice. I want her to sweat in anticipation of her husband returning home from the office. I am dead serious. And I want that with the same woman for the next, say 25 years. One day, I would like to drop my youngest son off at Morehouse College, fly back to an empty house in DC and do ungodly things to the woman who bore my babies. There is an eroticism evoked by the promise of marriage.
As an eccentric, I have faced up to not being main-stream. I have some quirks. The woman who commits to loving me, no matter what��� will be a woman cherished and revered. And I imagine that we will do it, a lot. And I mean the sweaty, grunting kind of doing it, too. And I am comfortable with the notion that some people do not hold claim to the same passion forever. That the flame extinguishes for some folks��� or whatever. Not me. I am a contrarian. There are a lot of things with which I have had long relationships that still make me excited. For example, I have been playing the piano since I was seven years old. I am turning 37, and I still love to bang those black keys.
Anyway, I know all about sex. No mystery there. I am sort of like an expert or whatever. No, really. I am not, you know, just good at it. I studied it. My mother had a copy of Woman���s Body. It was a big pink illustrated text book that explained all this technical stuff about chicks. My mother was also an elementary school teacher, so I was reading early. And I read a lot. Everything.
Anyway, one day she was out of the house, and I found her Woman���s Body book. And I read it. There was all of this explanation about the woman���s anatomy. The serious anatomy parts, though. I mean like where the on/off switches are located. Anyway, I was like 12 or so. I have always been a hacker (Tinker Toys, Erector Set, Chemistry Set), and it seemed like all this womanly business was a problem worth solving. I have read a lot of other -- woman's anatomy and sexuality -- books too. And I have read the occasional Cosmopolitan.
There are a lot of books that cover the woman���s sexuality as a problem set. And every woman is like a quiz or a curvy Rubik���s Cube. The Y chromosome renders dudes pretty simply ��� in terms of mechanics. Women, on the other hand, are systemically chaotic and complex. So, I have been on a quest to apply my research to the complete happiness of one woman. But what I have discovered in my quest is that coitus is not critical to the development of a long lasting relationship.
So, I thought about all of the things that I have put into a relationship. I have thought about all of the relationships that I have had. I have thought about where things could have gone wrong. I have assessed what I am really dating for in the first place. And the only thing that I can conclude is that pre-marital-sex is not helping me to get married. With respect to my past relationships, it just hasn���t provided an advantage for me to have had sex. It always complicates a relationship, somehow. I realized it has not delivered me anything more than I got, in say high school, when I had my first love but no lovin���. I am pushing forty, and I would really rather push a stroller.
So, I am not having (sigh) intercourse. Richard Cheney, the Vice President of the United States of America calls it abstaining. But, let me tell you something. It has got to be darn easier to abstain in Wyoming, where he is from. I mean, Wyoming? The closest foxy woman is in what, Texas? (I am exaggerating. I know that the closest foxy woman to Wyoming would, of course, be in Denver, Colo.) I live in Downtown DC, baby. And I have, what you might call, sex appeal. Sigh... Perhaps more than I need, too. I mean, I would never take advice from Dick Cheney about anything other than manipulating energy resources, dodging the draft, instigating global conflict or shooting attorneys in the face and then not reporting the incident for hours while the victim groaned and whined about the buckshot wounds in his face and neck. But in this case, Old Dick may be onto something.
I am not having sex in a city flooded with both highly sexy and overly sexualized members of the opposite sex. This is not going to be a walk in Rock Creek Park. Actually it might be like a walk in Rock Creek Park. They discovered a few years ago that Rock Creek Park has coyotes.
So, here sit I. A shaved head. A vow of poverty, and now, no nasty. Sigh... This had better work, too. I like doing the nasty. But you know, it's like the Rocky song "Eye of the Tiger." Eye of the tiger! For me, it���s same old same old: Boy sees goal, boy sacrifices something he loves to reach goal. What I needed next was a catchy way to convey my new approach to dating without mating.
So, I got this idea to focus group my ���No Nasty Now��� movement. The first person I told is my marketing guru friend. I was all���
ME: I am not going to have sex, until I get married. I think.
SHE_WAS_ALL: You are going to be chased.
ME: Sigh... I know. When the babes find out that I am not trying to get into their panties, they are all gonna come a���runnin���. Sigh...
SHE_WAS_ALL: No. I mean, you are going to be chased! Chased!
ME: Sigh...Yeah, I heard you. The women are going to lose their minds. But I need a way to describe it in a way that is still smooth��� you know? I don���t want to sound lame.
Then she explained that there was another way to describe not having sex, and that I should look up abstinence for the synonym��� blah, blah, blah. I had tuned her right out. I have an SAT verbal like a Porsche model number: In the 900s. But who needs a thesaurus to say ���I am not getting any���?
Chaste, huh?
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