EppsNet

I say to my ex: “How can you ask if he’s your kid? You can count backward from his birth to one of the two times in six years we had sex.”

— Penelope Trunk

I went to a 50th wedding anniversary mass today. Normally I wouldn’t be caught dead at such a thing but in this case the husband and wife also happen to be my parents so not only was I there, I was there bright and early to hand out programs.

Fifty years! How do a man and a woman celebrate with each other such longevity and perseverance?

Honey, I want to say something to you tonight that I’ve never said before, although I’ve had it in my heart for many, many years.

Three little words . . .

. . . let’s try anal . . .

‘Top Gun’s’ McGillis ‘done with the man thing’

— msnbc.com

Wow . . . she’ll make a nice tuna sandwich for some lucky lesbo.

I remember when I saw her naked in Witness. I had an erection lasting more than four hours and had to call my doctor.

He said don’t worry about it, he had the same thing . . .

Katie Couric talks about Twitter:

I don’t think anybody gives a rat’s ass whether I am about to eat a tuna sandwich. I don’t even care. Some of it is so inane and narcissistic and bizarre I don’t quite get it. I don’t know why anyone would want to read it, much less why I would want to write it.

Unless “tuna sandwich” is a code phrase for “vagina.” In that case, I’d be very interested to read about Katie Couric eating a tuna sandwich . . .

I’m reading a recommendation on LinkedIn, written by a person I know for another person I know.

Unbeknownst to the vast majority of people who’ll read the recommendation, these two people used to date each other. I know I’m a bad person but I can’t help mentally adding “…in bed” to the end of each sentence.

Try it:

Cleopatra is an absolute pleasure to work with. While working together, I found her to be a consummate professional. Clearly, her keen attention to detail is without equal. . . .

You get the idea . . .

My fellow Americans –

Did you know that I was born on this date in 1743? Probably you didn’t because nobody makes a big deal about it like Washington’s birthday or Lincoln’s.

That used to really bother me but I’m okay with it now.

Anyway — it’s MY birthday but YOU get the gift. Point your browser at the Guess Her Muff website. GADZOOKS! You will not be disappointed!

Sadly, ladies styling their pubes had not entered into the marketplace of ideas in the 18th century. I can’t help thinking what Sally Hemings would have looked like with a Brazilian.

AH-OOGAH!

My friend G.L. Hoffman sent this to me:

I just want to add that I knocked my wife up on the first try, in case any of my neighbors are reading this . . .

1. Fewer kids in day care
2. More women in porno

Look me in the eye
Then tell me that I’m satisfied
Hey, are you satisfied?

— The Replacements, “Unsatisfied”

What is a reasonable target for user satisfaction with a web site?

We did a user satisfaction survey last year and found that 14 percent of respondents felt that our web site didn’t measure up to their expectations.

This year, we have an incentive goal of reducing that number to 8 percent, not based on evidence that any web site has ever achieved a number that low, but based on the opinion of the company that did the survey that anything over a 10 percent dissatisfaction rating is always bad.

Or to flip it around, we’re trying to achieve a 92 percent approval rating.

I wish we hadn’t set the bar quite that high. I don’t want to be a pessimist but not only is that considerably higher than, say, Google (at 78 percent — and what’s not to like about Google?), it’s also higher than Santa Claus, crack cocaine and oral sex . . .

SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. — Danica Patrick paid a $196 fine to settle a speeding ticket after the star racecar driver was caught going 54 mph in a 35-mph zone last month.

— ESPN.com

Was she in a hurry to obtain oral sex? Because that would be hot . . .

I’m looking at these last few posts where I’ve strung together W.H. Auden, John Dewey, Meat Loaf and Franz Kafka, not with any sense of purpose, just things I’ve read or listened to on my winter break.

What a renaissance man I am!

Why, if you were here, we could talk about poetry, education, philosophy, sex, drugs, rock ‘n roll, existentialism . . . and we’d have a good time too, considering we’re all going to die . . .

SPRINGFIELD, Ohio — A Tri-State woman is in critical condition Wednesday after police say her husband shot her while they were having sex.

— “Man Says Wife Was Accidentally Shot During Sex”, WLWT Cincinnati

After you’ve been married for a while, you have to try new things in the bedroom to keep it interesting . . .

One of my co-workers came to the office today with an obvious hickey between her neck and shoulder, but she thought I was juvenile for noticing it.

“How old are you again?” she asked.

“Old enough to remember hickeys obviously.”

“Don’t you mean ‘Not too old to have forgotten hickeys’? You think young people don’t know what hickeys are?”

Maybe I should have said, “Old enough to remember when hickeys were a standard element of the teenage repertoire.”

But actually, I don’t think kids know what hickeys are. I haven’t even heard the word “hickey” in years. I think hickeys, like plaid pants, are a relic of a bygone era.

Girls are much more forward now, if the messages in my son’s yearbooks are any indication. If girls are offering oral sex in junior high school, what are you going to say? “Can I give you a hickey first”?

P.S. As I suspected, my 15-year-old son has no idea what a hickey is.

FATHER: Would you take out the trash please?

SON: Are you KIDDING?! I’m doing homework! I’ll take out the trash if you read To Kill a Mockingbird and tell me what each chapter is about.

FATHER: I’ve read To Kill a Mockingbird. You want to know what it’s about? ‘Racism is Bad.’ Now take out the garbage.

SON: Mom said my dinner was going to be ready by now and she hasn’t even started cooking it yet.

FATHER: You’re a big boy. Why don’t you make something yourself?

SON: I’m really not happy with the service I’m receiving here.

SON: So was Mom pretty horny when you first met her?

FATHER: Oh Jesus . . .

It’s interesting how many HTTP 4xx return codes could be used in response to a request for intimate access to a woman:

401 Unauthorized

402 Payment Required

403 Forbidden

405 Method Not Allowed

411 Length Required

413 Request Entity Too Large

417 Expectation Failed

From Michelle “There is no safety net for anybody” Obama’s DNC speech:

You know, what struck me when I first met Barack was that even though he had this funny name, even though he’d grown up all the way across the continent in Hawaii, his family was so much like mine. He was raised by grandparents who were working class folks just like my parents, and by a single mother who struggled to pay the bills just like we did.

Well . . . if you take all that at face value — and why wouldn’t you? — it only goes to show how shallow I am, because what struck me when I first met my wife was what a nice ass she had.

Hubba hubba!

The Ashley Harkleroad Playboy photos, while tastefully done by modern standards, are more daring (think pubic hair) than the recent Amanda Beard Playboy photos, which were so tastefully done they were actually boring . . .

Outer-space sex carries complications

— msnbc.com

Hey NASA, I’m no aeronautical engineer but what I’d do is to tether the woman to a stationary object so she can’t move, just like I do here on Earth.

Uh . . . with her consent, of course . . .

Headline from OCFamily.com:

TEEN PREGNANCY: What Parents Can Do to Prevent It

Don’t have sex with teenagers?

I like to think I’m up to speed on my acronyms, abbreviations and fetishes, but CFNM is a new one on me.

No, I’m not going to hyperlink it — this is a family-oriented website — but go ahead and Google it if you want to . . .