I've been reading this best-seller called "Secrets of Seduction: How To Be the Best Lover Your Woman Ever Had," which right away gets depressing, because it implies that, if you're reading the book, you already HAVE a woman. Don't they realize that only LONELY GUYS read books like this?
Anyhow, it's by this woman named Brenda Venus, which I don't know about you, but the name sounds like somebody who works with a snake in the Trocadero Lounge in Reno.
But she describes herself as an "actress/dancer/model"--a triple threat--who lives in Beverly Hills and was once "a close friend and confidante of Henry Miller in his later years." If you know what she means, and I think you do.
Okay. I read the whole dang thing. And here's my observation about ALL books like this, but especially THIS one.
First of all, it's too dang much to remember. How can you keep 150 rules in your head? And even if you could, they're all OPPOSITES.
On one page she tells us dunderhead guys to ALWAYS be perfectly groomed, because there's nothing that's more of a turn-off to a woman than a stinkmeister. She says buy those little electric doohickeys that you stick in your nose and ears. She goes into armpits, shaving, hair, cologne--the whole nine yards.
And then, 50 pages later, she says NEVER BE TOO CONCERNED ABOUT YOUR APPEARANCE. There's nothing that's more of a turn-off to a woman than a guy looking in the mirror and caring what he looks like.
Well, WHICH IS IT, honey?
Another thing she says is, "Never ask permission." Women don't like mealy-mouthed weenies mooning around em, waiting for a signal to start kissing.
And then, 50 pages later, she says, "Never do anything until you're absolutely certain it's what a woman wants." But don't ASK for this information. In other words, you're supposed to pick it up from her musky scent or something.
To which I say, what if you're just stupid? What if you go sniff sniff sniff, look into her eyes, and CHOOSE THE WRONG DANG THING? What do you do? Say "Oh, sorry, I thought you were asking me to ravish you. In retrospect, I can see that was the signal to take you out for a ravioli dinner."
And the book is FULL of this stuff. Send gifts, but don't send too many gifts. Send flowers, but don't KEEP sending flowers. Always compliment her outfit, but NEVER say anything you don't mean. (What if her outfit sucks?) Whenever you're having dinner, always give her your complete undivided attention, but never STARE at her. (Now I'll be a basket case: "Whoops! Better change eye position here. She might think I'm STARING.") Always "act like it's the first time," but "be in control." (Evidently it's been YEARS since this woman had a "first time." "Control" is not a word you normally associate with "first time.")
And my favorite--if she screams at you, it's because of a hundred things you've ALREADY done leading up to the time she screams at you. My question: Why didn't you scream on the first 99 instead of waiting to nuke me?
In other words, way too complicated for me. If I REALLY started thinking about this stuff, it would be a full-time job.
That's the point, isn't it?
A full-time job.
Brenda, you sneaky rascal you.
And speaking of women who know how to wrap you into a pretzel without you ever figuring it out, Ami Dolenz is the star of "Rescue Me," and this little gal (what is she? four-foot-seven?) is making a whole new B-movie career out of playing the smart-mouth little rich-girl bitch princess. In this flick she's a cheerleader Prairie Queen at a Nebraska high school who drives the yearbook photographer and school nerd Stephen Dorff crazy every time he sees her. In fact, he starts following her around, taking her picture all the time, until he accidentally gets photos of her being kidnapped by a couple of Beavis-and-Butthead crooks, and pretty soon he's driving cross-country on a motorcycle with grizzled Vietnam vet Michael Dudikoff, stopping at whorehouses to Grow Up, exchanging a whole lot of gunfire, and basically doing the "Thelma & Louise" thing but without any women along to SCREW IT UP.
The great thing about watching MEN in a road picture is that you know they might do many things, but they would NEVER drive into the Grand Canyon.
It's a really decent one--kind of an action/adventure/comedy/teen nookie/road movie with a few crying scenes tossed in.
Three dead bodies. One chemistry-lab fire. Four shootouts. One motor vehicle chase, with crash. Gratuitous pep rally. Gratuitous Dee Wallace-Stone. Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Ami Dolenz, as the kidnapped cheerleader, for saying "My father will pay a lot for me--he owns the bank" and "So what kind of car do you drive?"; Michael Dudikoff, in one of his best performances, as the Nam vet who says "Now you kissed a girl, kid--the rest is all downhill"; Peter DeLuise, as the dimwit kidnapper who explains why he has an unconscious woman over his shoulder by saying "She just got Rolfed"; Kimberly Kates, as the hooker with a heart of lust, who says "I like watching a man eat good"; and Stephen Dorff, as the yearbook photographer who says "I know exactly who I am! I'm the geek who's gotten straight A's since the third grade who still can't get a girl to kiss him!"
Joe Bob says check it out.