I mean you CAN, but why would you want to?
--- In [email protected], "Ellen"
<[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
>
> right, you can't make up stuff like that.
>
>
> --- In [email protected], "Maureen" <mortiifera@>
> wrote:
> >
> > what i find funny is that i don't doubt, for one second, that you
> > ACTUALLY did this IRL...
> >
> > --- In [email protected], "Ray Bradley"
> > <clavenia@> wrote:
> > >
> > > Since we're still stuck in the winter of our discontent, our
Dark
> > Age
> > > before the Dawning of the New Light of Our Beloved Gene, I have
> > > decided to take forth the reins of hilarity and Channel Gene
with
> > a
> > > Just Inside The Beltway column.
> > >
> > > Essentially, I shall rewrite a classic Gene column and show
what
> > > would happen if everybody's favorite middle aged culturally
> Jewish
> > > humor writer from New York had been replaced with, well, me. A
> > > bonafide Maryland mutt with no real moral compass or the
> > complusion
> > > to do anything about it.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Ray's Close Shave
> > > The adventures of a not-so-smooth operator
> > >
> > > Originally done By Gene Weingarten
> > > Sunday, June 25, 2006; Page W40
> > >
> > >
> > > The question that we columnists hear most frequently is: "Do
you
> > use
> > > water when you bathe, or just an ungodly amount of Axe
deoderant
> > > spray?" It's a stupid question, because I'm almost 34, and
> > everybody
> > > knows that only socially-awkward 15 year old boys use Axe
because
> > > they're too young to get Drakkar (that's for the 18 year olds).
> So
> > I
> > > generally ask people to rephrase it using proper grammar, which
> > they
> > > do: "Have you ever groomed yourself, assface?"
> > >
> > > Today, I will end the unpleasantness with a straight answer. We
> > > columnists do our grooming in many ways: applying creams,
scented
> > > lotions, attaching various vibrating devices to appendages that
> > can
> > > be found at MVC, 5625 Leesburg Pike, Bailey's Crossroads, Falls
> > > Church Virginia, by writing things for bored humor enthusiasts
> who
> > > can't wait for a real humor writer to come back.
> > >
> > > This column is a case in point. I got the idea from a gifted
> > writer
> > > named Gene Weingarten who stole this idea from some kid named
> > Danny
> > > Jacobs, who asked Gene for his opinion of a humor piece he had
> > done
> > > for his college paper at the University of Maryland. Gene said
it
> > was
> > > swell. Then Gene stole it. Now I'm rewriting it. This is all
part
> > of
> > > my personal program to shame humor columnists to participate in
> > chats
> > > again. Gene stole the article to acquaint young journalists
with
> > > important truths. In this case: Beware, there are vultures
> > everywhere.
> > >
> > > For his article, Danny shaved one half of his face with a new,
> > super-
> > > hyped five-blade razor, the other half with his trusty
electric,
> > and
> > > then had fellow students feel which shave was closer. (The
> blade.)
> > It
> > > occurred to Gene that in the hands of a pro such as himself,
this
> > > idea would present an important journalistic opportunity to ask
> > women
> > > he did not know to stroke my face. Since I'm at least 35% more
> > > perverted than Gene, I figured this would be fine excuse to get
> > women
> > > to cop a feel of my supple buttocks.
> > >
> > > Plus, I have a great ass. For the past 2 years -- to the
derision
> > of
> > > my family and friends -- I have been riding my bicycle to and
> from
> > > work on a heavy steel mountain bike from 1994. No sane person
has
> > > used a mountain bike this heavy since the era of carbon fiber
> > > composites and titanium alloys; barring of course the waves of
> > recent
> > > immigrants who ride similar bikes to and from their jobs at the
> > > Jerry's Subs and Pizza. I ride this way because I think it's
cool
> > to
> > > ride a bike twice a day with something that weighs as much,
> > > practically, than an Olson Twin. But that's really a bad
simile,
> > so I
> > > tell people I do it because the heavier bike and fatter tires
> give
> > me
> > > a better work out. Here was an opportunity to discover whether
> all
> > > this bike riding might actually be making my ass *too* good.
> > >
> > > I rode into work yesterday using my heavy bike to get to work,
> > only
> > > using my left leg to pedal. Today, I used my lightweight racing
> > bike
> > > using only might right leg. In the interest of science, I am
now
> > > about to go out in the food court and ask 30 women to judge the
> > > results. Hang on.
> > >
> > > Okay, I'm back. I am pleased to report that all but three
agreed
> > to
> > > participate. One of these turndowns, however, did not go well
at
> > all.
> > > She listened patiently to my proposal and then wordlessly began
> to
> > > run/walk away in the direction of the Pentagon's police staff,
a
> > > group of anti-terrorism specialists with submachine guns.
> > Mustering
> > > as much dignity as possible, I headed away, slowly but
> > purposefully,
> > > in the opposite direction.
> > >
> > > Another turndown went like this:
> > >
> > > Pam: Are you asking only women?
> > >
> > > Me: Well . . . yes.
> > >
> > > Pam: Why?
> > >
> > > Me:
> > >
> > > Pam: I'll do it if you get a man to do it first.
> > >
> > > So I guess, in that case, it was actually I who declined.
> > >
> > > Most women seemed to take this diagnostic task very seriously.
> > > Several checked with the backs of their hands, like a mom
testing
> > for
> > > fever. Philosophically, the experience was intriguing -- a
> > metaphor
> > > for the uncertainty of romance. The mechanics of a caress
aren't
> > all
> > > that different from those of a slap; it's mostly a matter of
> > emphasis.
> > >
> > > At the Citibank ATM, I explained to a woman named Christianne
> what
> > I
> > > wanted her to do, and she asked: "You mean . . . with my hand?"
I
> > > stammered the first thing that came into my head: "Well, with
> > > whatever you think appropriate." She did it anyway.
> > >
> > > There were scary moments. One young woman named Carole heard my
> > > pitch, and, stony-faced, immediately reached into her
pocketbook
> > > (mace?) and produced a business card (lawsuit?). Fortunately,
she
> > > just rubbed the edge of the card against my cheeks, listening
for
> > > differences in the scratching sound. "Disappointed I didn't use
> my
> > > palm?" Carole asked. "No!" I lied.
> > >
> > > Now I know what you are thinking: You are thinking that only a
> > > perverted man would derive some sort of pleasure from this
tiny,
> > > silly degree of anonymous intimacy. And I'd have to say you
were
> > > right. I am completely ashamed of myself.
> > >
> > > The final tally: Thirteen said the left side of my butt was
> > firmer.
> > > Thirteen said the right side was smoother. One could not decide.
> > >
> > > In short, I may have to do it again. For science.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > ***************************************************************
> > >
> >
>
