Booty: A Call to Action

From the time we are very young, we obsess over sex. We think about it constantly, even long before we know what it really is. When we finally do get to experience it, we have no clue what to do. A point that is surely much more disappointing to her, than it really is to the young man at the time. The phrase, "That's it?" comes to mind as she ponders what just happened and says a silent goodbye to her dearly departed Flower.

And so most of guys out there enter the world of copulation with, shall we say, something lacking.

Over time, with lots of practice and late night cable, (and for today's generation) the Internet, we get better....or so we think. We get married, we have careers, we have children. Our lives are busy. Yet still the quest continues. Not surprisingly, we still find ourselves coming up short.

It's the weekend. The optimal time for couples to "reconnect." We don't have to go to work, we don't have to get up early the next day. Finally you get the kids to bed. You sit on the couch watching football. Perhaps you didn't bother to shave. You may have forgot to shower. "Fuck it", you said after waking up, "It's Saturday." You're wearing dirty jeans and a nasty t-shirt with food stains on it. Drinking cheap beer and belching loudly while using your fingers for a Q-tip. Occasionally you might fart unapologetic ally, I know I do. By the third High Life, we're all starting think about a little about "Sumpum, Sumpum...you know wut I'm sayin??" Which unfortunately maybe precisely how we phrase it to our respective wives and significant others. Looking over, we realize the object of our affection has fallen asleep.....again.

Yet, we never stop at that moment and seriously wonder why. I mean, look at us in all our manly majesty. Who couldn't wait up for that?! The time has come for change.

Let me be clear here, I am not speaking of a little man-sculpting and a dab of cologne. I preach a more holistic gospel. We have to create an environment that rather than encouraging failure, fosters the successful pursuit of poon. We can no longer seriously expect our women to transition seamlessly from, "Married With Children" to "The Red Shoe Diaries." No more can we Bundy it up all day, and then expect to go David Duchovny all night. We must groom! We must bathe! We must pretend to have manners!

It's not 1953, Gentlemen. If we expect dinner, Men, we must set the table.

Now if you will excuse me, I must go and clip my toe nails.