Below is what my team got to read last week...)
Dragons!
As I'm glancing at the Globe & Mail's web site this morning, I noticed the five most popular stories in their Life section...
Nowhere to be found are articles on breast implants, hangover cures or how long you have to stay awake after you've done your honest-to-god very, very best to care for your partner's sexual needs. Somehow men's priorities and concerns are not being properly addressed. I can understand how the on-going and neverending debate on circumcision can be an issue for men but isn't it more important that our penis is happy no matter its shape, size or posture?
After all, a happy penis makes for a happy man.
Allow me to illustrate: Picture, if you will, an ice cube: alone, untouched, unloved. And now, picture a beautiful woman taking that ice cube, gently cupping it in her hands and then slowly putting it into her mouth. She swirls her tongue around and smiles as she feels the chill turn to warmth. Her eyes sparkle with satisfaction and knowledge at what she's done.
Phew. I don't know about you, but I'm already feeling better at the thought.
And yes, obviously, that ice cube represents the now-growing value of your RRSPs. Congratulations on those long-term investments finally paying off.
It's that simple. More articles like that in The Globe and Mail and more men would read their friggin' Life section.
And not one mention of hockey in their Top Five!!! How wrong is that?!?
This Sunday you will be beating the TS. Envision your victory and their humiliating defeat (you can come back to that ice cube imagery later). At this very moment, picture yourself thrilled as you triumphantly leave the rink. Now, hold onto that image and treasure it until you exit the game Sunday afternoon.
And the arithmetic is simple: the TS played the Voy last week and lost 5-1; we've played the Voy and lost 1-nothing and tied 3-3; ipso facto, statistically we are the TS's superiors not only on the ice and spiritually, but also in the bedroom because they are the sexual equivalent of a pot of limp, overcooked linguini in a cold and frustrated clam sauce compared to ourselves who are, of course, velvet-covered vibrating spanners of tantric delight. And, as I always say, you can't argue with math.
Alas, with heavy heart, I will not be joining you in victory this Sunday. Yes, in the 21st Century version of Rock/Paper/Scissors, eight year old's birthday party trumps Dragons. Laser Quest and chocolate cake awaits for me on Sunday afternoon; but at that exact same time Victory shall have her arms open wide as she awaits for your glorious return. Who knows, she may even have an ice cube in her mouth.
Best of luck on Sunday,
Kevin.
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