Does Size Matter?

This amusing picture aside, it may not be as important.

Before you get the idea that I'm going to suggest willy-nilly inspecting the contents of guys' swimsuits (not a bad way to spend a Saturday afternoon), let me make this observation: Only a certain minimum size is needed; beyond that, it's how it is used.

Let's put it in perspective. Is it more satisfying to do it with a guy whose little soldier is five inches in length, but who lasts for fifteen minutes; or with a guy whose weapon is seven or eight inches, but who fires it in less than a minute? I think most women would know the answer.

In short, it's how it's played. And I mean foreplay. Make it last longer. If you give her multiple orgasms (or even one), you will be a hero. Putting it in is Act III; Acts I and II should not be neglected.

And there's more. In a recent issue of Maxim, they purported to interview 8,000 women. When given these choices, 86% preferred a guy who was not good in bed, but wonderful in all other ways, as opposed to 14% preferring the guy who was great in the sack but otherwise a bastard.

Operation Pumpkin: Dealing with the Runaway Bride

One of the tittillating little details that crept out of the barrage of news of the Royal Wedding is that there actually was a contingency plan in place in the case that Kate were to bolt. It was called "Operation Pumpkin," for some reason. And it was reported in The Register and in Time Magazine.

Here's my take on what could have happened had she actually been a runaway bride:

"Oh my God, Kate's kicked off her heels and she's sprinting out of Westminister Cathedral! Wilson, put Operation Pumpkin in effect!"

Wilson turns to Pippa, the Maid of Honor: "Okay, Pippa, you know the bargain you made. Hop into this spare bride's dress and you marry William. Oh, and think of England tonight."

Wilson subtly holds a stiletto in Pippa's back. She strips out of her maid of honor clothes and dons the bride's dress while standing in the vestibule. The word is sent to the Prince: "You're marrying Pippa, instead!"

"Oh good. She's smoking hot!"

Pippa asked, "Do I get to be a Duchess and do I still get to go to Disney World?"

Pippa and Wilson go down the aisle, with Wilson holding the enormous train.

"Rule Britainnia, Britainnia waives the rules!"

If I Were to Give a Graduation Speech

City Council and School Board Members, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Faculty, Parents, and Honored Members of the Class of 2007:

I have no Earthly idea why I was invited to deliver the address this evening: perhaps it is hard to find graduation speakers who will do it gratis, or maybe all others are making preparations for later, when you proposed to "paint the town red." Anyway, I'm constrained to send you off with sound advice, so here it goes.

Be easy on yourself, for nobody else is going to feel like doing that very much. Never pass up an opportunity to sleep, to use the rest room, and above all never, never pass up free food. Read the newspaper, but don't take the editorials very seriously. They're mostly written by J-school grads with bad haircuts. Speaking of haircuts: if your trip to the salon or barber comes out disappointingly, you can always wear a baseball hat backwards for a month.

E-mail your parents now and then. Periodically change your account, and leave spam behind. Don't drink gas station coffee. Pay your fair share of taxes, but not one penny more. Make sure your spare is properly inflated. Learn how to sing, how to dance, and how to skate. Learn a foreign language, and find opportunities to practice speaking it. Foreigners can help you out with some new ways of having a good time.

You're old enough, dammit. If you used up all the toilet paper, than replace the used roll with a new one. If the bulb burns out, replace it.

Go early to things; and have a backup plan. Murphy wasn't kidding: If things can go wrong, they will. Plan an escape route when attending civic meetings.

Be kind to animals.

Having a good heart is expected of you; having a perfect lawn is not. Love people, starting with yourself.

Tommorrow morning, if you feel like I think you're going to feel, take three aspirin, some juice, and two more hours in bed. Don't even try a big breakfast. Live long and prosper. Now, let's go out there and kick some butt for the next fifty years!

The Bra Tree

This is a tree at which women in a group individually remove their bras, and leave them permanently hanging on the tree. This is usually part of a ceremony by a sorority or other group, and is almost always attended only by women.

The Chili Dog Sisters, a group I belonged to, would have their annual bra tree ceremony; and it would be followed by a dinner at a Thai restaurant in Murfreesboro.