You know the old saying -- you've probably heard it before:
"Don't worry... it happens to everyone." At that point and time, you don't believe
it. You can't believe it. Has
everyone really been lying there in the dark with an unsatisfied woman/man and
no ability to do anything about it? Or
what about having a woman/man who, on a scale of one to ten, is easily a twelve
and she's rip-roaring and ready and you have to face a moral crisis about
whether or not to tell her you currently are infested with creepy, crawly
crabs? What about that? Does that
happen to everyone?
I didn't write the Bible, but if I did, I would make that
the new John 3:16. For God so loved the world, that he equated good deeds with sexual
heroics on command without use of pill, prayer or essence of rhino horn. But that's not going to happen, is it? No man who tinkered with the scribbling of
Scripture ever bothered to make mention of one of the greatest sins of all
time: sexual dysfunction.
So be not dismayed!
For although saints and apostles neglected to mention it, many very
important songwriters did. And next time
you hear the words "It happens to everyone," rest assured that even
if it didn't, Mick Jagger wrote a fucking song about it, which is good enough
for me. So pop a pill, say a prayer, and
snort some rhino horn, but do it to some Rolling Stones or some Howlin' Wolf and
get those "Rocks Off!"
It's hard enough out there, with all the pressures of
performance to keep a good man erect during a... um, sermon. What, with the
stresses from work, the need to please, wondering if your butt looks good for
the hidden camera... But add to all this a dirty yes ma'am and there is no
quicker recipe for flaccidity. But in
the bedroom at the moment of conflagration is not the appropriate time to
discuss such a topic. Rather, as soon as
you read this post -- hell, before you move on to #9 -- grab a little dab of
vinegar and water and get in there and scrub out your yes ma'am. Get it clean.
Because sometimes it's your
fault.
So there is a pretty good chance that this one is a bit of a
reach, but if you've ever dated a girl with recurring maladies, you end up
giving her all kinds of nicknames. Plus,
how many times have you sat in the doctor's waiting room, itching away and
singing "it burns, burns, burns..."
Now, in this context, please click on the link and listen to the song,
lyric by lyric and tell me it's not applicable.
Puts June Carter Cash (rest her precious soul) in an entirely new light.
A lazy red rooster is a horrible thing, but one way to wake
it up is to put on some Howlin' Wolf.
There's a reason why boner pills use his "Smokestack
Lightning" to sell their blessed products.
Mark Humphrey described Wolf's gravelly voice and singing style as being
like "shattered glass dragged over hot asphalt." His music is velvet, the rhythms smooth and
bumping. He was a bandleader, not just a
frontman. He controlled every
instrument, note and sound that went into the making of his records. And if you fear how he would feel about his
music being used to peddle prick pills, I think he would be quite pleased.
This song details a horrible physiological condition that a
man incurs after making time with a lady.
All sorts of maladies have been documented throughout time that involve
fooling around with women with dirty yes ma'ams, but something that causes
"icicles to hang from my eyes" and something that sends "cold
chills all through my bones" is just horrible. This probably explains why Ike resorted to
physical violence so often with his ladies: to warm up his blood.
A dirty yes ma'am can lead to many physical maladies, one of
such is "roses on the skin," which is a poetic way to describe dirty,
puss-filled lesions. While some girls
may be just so amazingly hot, lesions should never be ignored. Every good baseball fan knows there is ninety
feet between second and third base and usually you should go looking for the
shortstop. And by shortstop I mean roses on her
skin. And by roses, remember: we mean lesions.
Most of the time they are red, just like a stop sign. So remember my old adage: No matter how
beautiful she is, no matter how drunk you are -- someone, somewhere is
scratching like mad.
Again, we will file this under "Her Fault." If it didn't take so much booze at the bar to
get you back to the house, we'd be dancing the limbo right now on the futon,
but instead you only like me after the fourth Jager bomb, so this is your
punishment, not mine, because honestly, I wouldn't remember it anyway.
Not to sound like a heel here, but we can file this under
"Her Fault." Seriously, it is
not my fault that you can't get off unless one leg is over my head and the
other is under the bed and I have to do six and a half minutes of steady
pressure here and then alternating fast and slow, all this after twenty minutes
of foreplay and the aforementioned four Jager bombs, dinner, and a courting
dance that looks like something ripped straight from Medieval Times. Life is about adaptability, survival of the
fittest. I say you've got a good three
minutes tops, so get in there and get your money's worth and quit blaming
everyone else for your problems.
If you can listen to this song without crying then you are a
bigger man than me.
It was a toss-up between one of Muddy's first recorded songs
(this one) and one of his most famous ("Got My Mojo Working"). "Mojo" rocks, especially because
it's about a dude who gets lots of action, but can't shake it with the one he
likes so he has to go "down to Louisiana to get me a mojo hand," which is a lot of fun to explicate. However "Satisfied" is exemplary
because it details a different dysfunction: sexual addiction.
The mark of a truly great sexual dysfunction is the ability
for it to make people both fear it and desire it at the same time. Oh, the horrors of having a detachable
penis... oh, the wonders! What if the
old penis could be operated like one of those breathalyzer machines installed
in the car of a man with too many DUIs?
Or if you could leave it at home before heading off to a place where you
just know you'd get in too much trouble?
However, as King Missile details in their wonderful early 90s classic,
it is very easy to misplace and then hijinks could ensue. And, as we've discussed in this top ten,
hijinks always come at a price.
Did I miss any? Don't
be shy. Scratch that itch by commenting
below!
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