Chinese Food

By afternoon the day I stayed home with my sick daughter, she was asking for Chinese food. Of course this meant she was feeling better!

Speaking of Chinese food . . .

Lately I’ve been seeing a man from LA for whom sex is just like Chinese Food: Twenty minutes afterward he’s completely forgotten he had it and wants more. This was fun at first, and exactly what I asked for: At the time I put out The Call, I was experiencing a sex drought and had put “highly sexual” on my list of priorities in a man, along with the specific request that he like music. Within a matter of weeks I was on my way to the Grammy Awards with a man whose idea of a normal sex life is eight+ times a day.

Unfortunately, it got real old, real fast, and I realized I could only take him in small doses. Ever try to live on Chinese food?

(I found this one at The Joke Forum)

Chinese food sex is just like bunny sex. There is nothing wrong with occasional bunny sex. But when it’s all The Hedonisticpleasureseeker gets, it becomes repetitive. It leaves no marks, no trails, no memories, and twenty minutes later she gets that empty feeling.

When I complained to my annoying gremlins that my sex life was all form without substance, they just laughed their little asses off.

“You didn’t ask for substance,” they said.

(image from The Grinning Gremlin)

Sigh. Right now I could use the sexual equivalent of a bloody steak. But I’m afraid of what might happen if I were to ask for it.