Didn't they use this guy in a GEICO commercial?

HIM: Women are things.

ME: Thanks for stopping by, caveman. Tell me, after the anthropologists thawed you out, how long did it take them to teach you to speak?

The thrill of online dating continues unabated, yay me.

fred8666: can I be your slave? I will do any thing that you order me. I will kiss and massage your feet if you let me.

Ginger: I won't. As it says in my profile, nobody touches my feet.

fred8666: can I lick your ass?

Ginger: No, thank you.

Haven't forgotten you, let me make up for it!

Hello all. Hope you've been well, and busy and happy as I am.

Freak magnetism continues apace, with this latest, um, entry in my box:

A older women offered me money to see what the different between boys and girls were.....She was bigger than I and I was intimidated buy her insistance.. so I laid naked on the ground for all of glory and her to see! Then without warning, she straddle my torso and pinned my arms with her knees.......then she took out a roll of nickels, held my nose until my mouth opened , and then one by one she made me swallow as many coins as possible by forcing them down my throat. Don't remember how many coins I swallowed just, recall being taken to emergency. The coins were given back to me by the doctors as a token of the experience.

No idea whether he made that up, whether it's a fantasy, or it really happened. Not sure I want to know. Not at all surprised, however, that he wanted me to know.

Happy Birthday, my man.

In Bonnie & Clyde:


In Young Frankenstein with Madeline Kahn:


With Richard Pryor in Silver Streak:


In The Woman in Red:


In Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex:


Interviewed by Alec Baldwin:


Interviewed by another legend, David Frost:


And of course, in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, the movie that started my crush.

SPARKLES!

Keep it classy

Went to Hermosa Beach on Sunday last weekend, because I like my holidays hot with a side of drunken 22-year-olds.

I kid. But I have to say, the beach party scene has never been my thing.

Had dinner with a couple of girlfriends - the weather was perfect, and the food was wonderful - and then headed to Patrick Malloys, a pub on the boardwalk. It was drunken-22-year-old heaven.

Note to said 22-year-olds: booze does not improve your dancing skills. It does make you more willing to look silly in front of total strangers, though.

After having a drink, I squeezed my way past a couple of partyers so I could have a pee. I found myself standing in line with a couple of women having a very intense, very drunken conversation, of which my favorite part was this:

"Listen, girl, I am 33 now. I have decided I'm just not going to pee in alleyways anymore. It's tacky!"

As if it's okay at some other age.

That's Hermosa on a holiday weekend, in a nutshell.

Puke. In. My Mouth.

Hysterical.

Lady of the dance

The Morrigan has an absolutely hilarious post up about the practical (and very physical) pain of brazilian wax jobs; I highly suggest you read it. A friend of mine had a similar incident a few years back. She attempted to wax herself without first testing the heat of the wax.

Fire down below!

To escape the burning pain, she jumped into her tub to cool off - and wound up stuck to it. I think it took her almost an hour to extract her (now very raw) labia from the porcelain. This is all funny in retrospect, of course, since she wasn't permanently damaged. At the time, though, she had to contemplate whether to extract herself with considerable bloodshed or call 911. When you're a slave to pubic hair fashion, these are the rewards you reap.

Bepenised readers, allow your favorite redhead to pontificate on the royal pain in the ass that is female grooming and maintenance. If the ladybits are right on the outside, they're not right on the inside, or vice versa; sometimes they're just not right altogether. On a good day, having ladyparts is divine, like owning a heated indoor pool that just happened to be installed between your thighs; orgasmically speaking, we're built with an Uzi to a man's shotgun. On a bad day, though, ladybusiness is like a foreign car - finicky and impractical, stalling at intersections, with weird looking parts that are expensive to replace. It's a double-edged sword, boys. The proverbial blessing-and-curse paradox if there ever was one.

Every single one of us women has some humiliating grooming story in her past. The Morrigan has inspired me to share mine, so here goes:

A FEW YEARS BACK

**ring, ring***

Tabitha: Hello?

Ginger: Hey, it's me. I think I did something really stupid...

Tabitha: (worried) Are you ok?

Ginger: ...I kind of shaved off all my pubic hair.

Tabitha: ....

(moment of silence)

Tabitha: HYSTERIAL LAUGHTER

Ginger: I haven't seen it without hair in twenty years! Oh my god, I look twelve! And I'm cold!

Tabitha: (trying to control giggling) And how did this happen?

Ginger: Um. I was cleaning it up and kind of missed...so I shaved some more off. Then it was uneven so I shaved some more...tried to even it out on the sides...and wound up with a patch that kind of looked...like a Hitler moustache.

Tabitha: OH MY GOD HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Ginger: I...contemplated leaving it there but it had to go. I cannot look at that every day. I do not have a fascist punany.

Tabitha: (choking) Oh my god.

Ginger: My punany is a blue state. (whiny) Now it's got a bald senator!

Tabitha: (loses it)

Ginger: God, this is going to itch in a week.

It's not just grooming that gets us women into trouble. Like a heated pool or expensive car, the ladybusiness contains delicate parts that need fine tuning. Their temperature, fluid levels and pH can be thrown off by lifestyle, medication and even laundry detergent.

In the early 00's, I wound up on antibiotics for a sinus infection that had spread to my ears. My fellow females probably already know where I'm going with this; as for my male readers, let it be known that antibiotics can dry up the ladybusiness from the inside out. This is, predictably, uncomfortable and requires one to moisturize the area a few times a day.

Towards the end of my prescription, I stepped out of shower one morning after a not particularly great night of sleep. Those of you who are regular readers of this blog already know that I am (a) and insomniac and (b) really, really not a morning person. Having overslept on this particular morning, I was in a rush. Instead of picking up my 'feminine moisturizer', which came in a long plastic tube, my barely awake self grabbed, and applied, tartar control mint toothpaste to my, um...well.


Have you ever seen Riverdance? Picture one of the performers on crack cocaine. I jumped back in the shower, towels and all, to douse what felt like hydrochloric acid burning its way through my most tender parts.

On the bright side, I was completely awake after that. The downside was that I was even later for work than usual. It was also uncomfortable to sit for two days.

So, boys, when you're trying to get with a woman, whether you've been with her before or are making the first move, bear in mind the amount of maintenance put upon the fairer sex by nature and fashion. Show us that you're appreciative of our efforts by keeping your bits clean. I MEAN EVERYTHING. Use baby wipes. Make sure it shines. Yes, we will notice, and in fact, it's the least you owe us for our troubles.

It's official: I am a twit.

Readers, I realize that I haven't been making regular updates, but you may now follow me on Twitter. I'm giving it a trial run - it may be too annoying to deal with, but we'll see. The good news is that the short, weird encounters that I have can go up on my page immediately. Feel free to make me a favorite, if you are so inclined. I love to be people's favorite!

Proof that my parents were pretty cool

I can't believe this lady. Has she never heard of the term "self-fulfilling prophecy"? There's nothing more for me to add, really. Enjoy the smackdown.