Thursday, June 5, 2008

Empress on the Mount

Your Highness:
The way I see it, when I meet a man I want to sleep with, I have three options, none of which I like: One, take him to my house, which is out because I don’t want him to know where I live in case he turns out to be an asshole. Two, go to a hotel, which I can’t really afford. Three, go to his place, which, let’s face it, if he’s a single man is usually a nasty rat hole. Which should I do?
Horny Dilemma
Go for the rat-hole option. After all, if his home makes you gag, do you really want to get up close and personal with him? Or let anything of his get up close and personal with you? Just make sure you have your own transport so you can develop a sudden health problem and have to leave. Hell, invent a case of rampaging Ebola virus if necessary. Though usually the mention of a “woman’s problem” will have him more than thrilled to shove you out the door. If he still seems annoyingly keen, grab your stomach and mutter something about cramps. It’s a guaranteed dick-shriveler.
For more pearls of wisdom from Her Crankiness, see her Empress on the Mount column in Lady Jaided magazine.


Flick said...

Only three options? What about that little alley way at the back of Burger King, or the back seat in the cinema or the ladies restroom - never go for the men's -yuk, they have no ability to aim - or a nice secluded wood, so long as no werewolves are around. Or go for a really challenging location -his office!

Anonymous said...

Hahaha! Flick, it seems you have some experience in this issue. There's always a place if you have imagination.

Anny Cook said...

Supply closet, coat closet, stairwell, balcony, back yard...

The Empress said...

Hmmmm ... so many options, so few men worthy of them. Flick's Burger King idea has merit. If the guy was no good you could toss him in a near-by dumpster.

The main problem with the cinema option is that there's always an annoying tosser with a torch hanging about. And as for the woods, splinters aren't usually much fun.

Balconies and stairwells also appeal. After all, if Mr Dick is forgettable, one teensy little push could solve one's problem.

Most inventive, ladies. Don't forget though, always have your get-away car ... er I mean, your own transport available. After all, it's not a penis that causes most problems but the dick to which it's attached.

Anonymous said...

Your Highness is always so good about devising an exit strategy. Might we get you to advise our next president?

The Empress said...

Susan, as far as I'm concerned, if there isn't an 'out' already planned, I don't go in. And nobody gets *cough* in, either.

There's only one problem with advising your next President. I'm very much doubting either of the nominees could afford me. A pity really, I reckon I could talk rings around most of their current advisors.

Another thought, does the White House have a nice garden? There'd have to be plenty of room for the poodles.

Anonymous said...

A pity George Bush didn't consult you before going in to Iraq. I know government pay is probably below your standards, but the gardens are lovely, so the poodles would have a nice romp. And you could just view it as a gift to world peace and Iraq. Really, Empress, a woman of your station should bestow a little noblesse oblige on the commoners once in a while.

The Empress said...

Oh don't go all moral on me. I have no problem with a gift to Iraq and the World. I just don't see why politicians should get something (on top of all their perks) for nothing.

Though I spose I could dabble. After all, you did mention helping 'commoners'. And politicians are about as common as it gets.