Finding the perfect time to mate!

 

Back in the day (And by back in the day I’m referring to the Cro-Magnon Man Era) when a man wanted to mate with his desired female he clobbered the hairy creature over the head with a large tree limb or the nearest decayed Woolly Mammoth femur bone he could possibly find.

Current love and relationship experts like Dr. Phil, the creators of Match.com and the brilliant minds behind P.O.F all believe these actions seemed to be the most direct method in achieving a mating session with a woman who was bound to a mountain side apartment view as her hairy triplets latched on to her poison ivy infested breast. During this era women tried to become domesticated as they decorated the cave walls with hieroglyphics and skeletal remains of Aunt Betty who was apparently eaten by a giant mutated dragon fly.

The sexual strategies have changed over the years. Although there is no correct or proven way to seduce or woo your potential mate, cracking her over the skull with any type of weapon or body part is frowned upon in today’s society and will most likely land you in a prison for a few days considering you have a good lawyer.

Most men today attempt the more practical and logical approach. I can’t speak for all men. I can only speak about my own personal experience and what has worked for me. In all honesty, many of my tactics result in major failure. I personally have the sex appeal of a rotten banana. I’m as attractive as roasted brussell sprouts infected with stage 9 Polio.

I’ve seen alot of cool and smooth men do their thing. Most have a Ricky Martin tattoo on their knee cap and a Bell Biv Devoe scarf and this seems to be the type of men who attract the pretty women. I guess we all have our techniques. I can’t seem to find a tattoo artist willing to color my knee up with “Living La Vida Loca”. Damn I’m pissed. I’ll settle for a full back 98 Degrees mural at this point. Any takers?

Detecting sexual signs from your significant other can be as challenging as arranging this years family Easter photo with The Menendez Brothers.

I personally always try and take all potential sexual signs, or at least what I think is a sign, as an opportunity to jump on this woman who is only open for business 15 minutes per week. Shop is also closed on weekends and all major holidays. Including Flag Day.

Signs can be misleading. Women have evolved. They no longer have to embrace the impact of a potential dense bone deadly blow to the temple to convince them to mate. Their skulls have toughened up through evolution. I believe this breakthrough was the inspiration for the creation of steel.

Unlike the caveman era, women have rights. As they should. They are much more intelligent and rational than any penis driven male. Period. At the end of the day, what defines a man is a 6″ (if you’re lucky) alien like ice pop stick. Doesn’t matter the level of intelligence. We only exist because of women. If all women decided to invent some kind of defense mechanism that permanently closed the “passage to male heaven”, life would be over as us males know it. Don’t let any man tell you different. That “thing” located in the center of your body has more power than the organizer of the schools Tricky Tray. That’s some powerful shit!

As much as I love having a beer with my buddies and endure the continuous complaints from my wife who bust my chops about pissing on her recently cleaned toilet seats and my steady lack of financial productivity, I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s worth every aggravating word she spits out of her mouth.

The other day my wife walked around the kitchen dressed in a George Michael mini-skirt singing “I Want Your Sex”. I jumped off the couch like a Mexican man hosting a Taco eating hula hoop contest at the local flea market during a Spanish volleyball tournament. She denied me and made it clear she was now picking up the sexual signals from the 3 foot 1/2″ Spanish gentlemen running the Volley Ball event who happened to be 37 Zimas deep as a Tequila Sunrise oozed out of his left retna. I had to respect her sexual attraction. This was beyond my control. Life works in funny ways.

Next, my wife began walking down the hallway shaking her rump to “Let’s get it on” by Marvin Gaye. This peaked my interest and when I grabbed the top of her “off white” granny panties and tugged playfully she cracked me in the hairline with her IPad and proceeded to explain she would rather have relations with Vanilla Ice in his 5.0 as 90210’s Ray Pruit escorts her to prom.

Moral of the story is this. Times have changed. Today’s sexual signals have changed. You can no longer believe an innocent lick of a cupcake or the unwrapping of a tootsie roll pop is an automatic invitation to sexual activities.

The purpose of this post is to protect and educate my fellow man. Be careful. There are traps and deception everywhere.

I also want to give all the women, mothers, wives all the respect in the world. Your day in and day out motherly duties is a task that only you can accomplish. You should all be proud.

I had to watch my twin boys for 6 minutes the other day and I was ready to flush myself down the toilet with a gallon of draino and dirty wet naps. God bless you.

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