Out there somewhere there are hundreds, if not thousands, of researchers trying to make it big by publishing a study that will rattle the world and force us all to change the way we live.
Until that day comes, many researches spend their time cranking out one useless study after another as a way of paying their dues. I have no idea if that’s how the world of scientific research works, but it’s the only logical explanation for why there are studies like this one, which claims that 43% of women carry around a pair of sexy underwear “just in case,” presumably because you never know when you might need to impress a man with an article of clothing that’s hidden out of sight beneath other articles of clothing.
This got me to wondering what emergency sex items I carry with me every time I leave the house.
Come, take a journey inside my pants as we spelunk for objects of sexual desire.
Having sex in a car is hot, as is having sex in my home. In fact, anywhere that I can legally get in to with a key that I own is potentially ground-zero for sex. Therefore, by the transitive property of keys, my apartment’s 1-foot by 6-inch mailbox represents the only key on my keychain that I have not used for sex…yet. Little horny women, my mailbox is always open. Wink.
A lot of men keep condoms in their wallets. I do not. In my wallet I keep a spare key for my car and a library card that I’ve had since I was 6 and haven’t used since 1998. My wallet is a f*ck machine waiting to be turned on.
It may not be a smartphone with all those fancy touchscreen gizmos, but it does contain many pictures of my penis, none of which have ever been sexted to anyone. The pictures are for a personal project I’m working on in which I take a picture of my penis every day and eventually string them together like those video montages of people that have taken a picture of their face every day, over the course of many years.
By the end, you will see the tale of a penis’ rise and decline as age withers it to grey dust.
A Small Notebook and a Pen
So I can write down the phone numbers of all the sexy ladies I meet; or, more accurately, to chronicle the varied and humorous ways sexy ladies tell me to go away.
Gum is a great conversation starter for me when it comes to women. When I pull a chewed wad out of my mouth and squish it in to the hair of a potential lady lover, she always has something to say about it. In return, I always have something to say about what she said and it’s usually something very sexy and alluring, like “C’mere. Let me shave you.”