Guest Blogging; The Real Scoop

Cash is unavailable today because the Giants have a day game and he insists Barry Bonds can't tie Babe Ruth for number two on the all-time HR list if he doesn't go. And he never blogs unless he should be working so writing something tonight is not an option. You know what that means? Right, you get his brother blogging in his place. He may be smarter but I am funnier. And prettier. And bigger. Not that I'm keeping track. Oh, and he won't know about any of this until he gets back. It's good to have his password. There aren't many secrets between each other when you are born on the same day. Speaking of secrets, someone figure this one out. How in the world does a geek like him become the key blogging voice for real newspapers to use for opinions on an article about rampant sex among teens in high schools? The girls in those videos he buys aren't really high school girls, they just pretend to be. Yet there he is, being endorsed by The Washington Post: Of course, it is good to be in high school these days. According to an article he emailed me yesterday, all kids do today is oral and anal sex. When I was growing up, getting anything like that was a real achievement. It sometimes took giving girls three Knickerbocker beers to get those things. Not any more. I blame Bush. Anyway, Cash is always boring you with stories about his love life so I figured you should know where most of the relationship advice he gives you comes from. Me. Yes, me. How to get rid of a girl, he once asked? Drop The Wife Bomb,I said. Yes, that was my invention. So rather than filter it through him tomorrow, I will give you my relationship advice a day early. (1) Girls, you can tell how a man will treat you by how he treats the waitress in a restaurant. This needs no further clarification. (2) Men judge women by how they respond to even the most minor affliction in a man. It is often said that, during emergencies, women are likely to remain calmer than men, but it should be noted that inventing minor crises on a weekly basis gives them more practice. Example: So I get up off the couch and I am feeling a little dizzy. I hate that feeling. I spend a lot of time making sure I look cool and dizzy is very much not cool. Did Fred Astaire ever look dizzy? I think not. So I point out that I am dizzy. My b***h doesn't notice. I weave for dramatic effect. That gets her attention. "You're weaving," she says. "Maybe you should sit down." Naturally, I don't. I don't take orders from her. Why don't I take orders from her? Because (3) a man who can't control his b***hes can't control his bowels. She continues. "I have no problem driving you to the hospital to get stitches but it probably wouldn't be necessary if you would just sit down. You're comparing yourself to Fred Astaire again, aren't you?" "Just make sure if I fall I don't hit my head. I can't take any chances with this face." She rolls her eyes. "Yeah. You're fine." See what I mean? She knows who's boss. That's all for today. I will hijack this blog again some other time. Sorry I didn't use 8,000 friggin' external links like he always does.