People In Hell Want Icewater
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November 11, 2005 - 9:40 p.m.

I spent most of today lounging around the house with cats. Those of you who don't have friendly cats may wonder how compelling that could be, but believe me, it is. They hop up on you on a cold day, and start massaging your stomach, and you don't want to get up... for hours. Or days.

Fortunately, it's a federal holiday, so I had no one expecting me anywhere. I like days like that, and as we get into December and January, there'll be more days like that.


Last night's date was terrific. We'll call her Riley, because that's her name... she was fun to talk to, liked a lot of the things I like, and she's a brown-eyed blonde. Damn me, I've found a terrible soft spot for brown-eyed blondes with nice voices and cute calves. And yes, she was wearing a great dress and heels for the date, as opposed to way too many women in recent times who show up for first dates dressed as if they just came from, or are planning on going to, Home Depot.

I like that girly stuff. I am attracted to it, and enough women seem to like doing it that I am quite certain hells, suits and nylons are not some sort of male "invention," any more than two-piece Kennedy suits and Florsheims are a female "invention."

If you like US in it, then think about why we like YOU in it.

Yeah. There's a reason, really.

And if you like looking like you're about to head to Home Depot, don't bitch about how all the guys you hook up with look like they just came from the salt mines.

Some of us like to dress for dates. You should do the same.

For the record, the enormous majority of women I've been in serious relationships with since my divorce have worn a dress or a skirt on our first date. Niki, Heather, Penny, Melody.

My first date with my ex-wife, back in 1994? I showed up in a suit. Told her I would be doing so. She had a cotton blouse, jeans and running shoes. I should have left her at the curb.


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