Summer Fun: The Porn Squad and Getting Banged

Jack and I had a really fun day yesterday. Actually, this whole summer has been pretty awesome, hence the sad lack of posts on this blog.

Anyway, yesterday after an hour or so at the pool, we went to run some errands. On the way back, we drove past a group of high-school age girls holding a sign that said "CAR WASH". There was another sign that said "Pom Squad". As we passed, Jack said "I think I need a car wash from the Porn Squad!"

"PORN SQUAD? Really? You think that's what that sign said? PORN squad?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what it said. Porn Squad."

"Honey, it's the POM SQUAD - like cheerleaders or whatever."

"No, it was definitely the Porn Squad, and I think they should wash my car."

He insisted that it made much more sense that a group of teenage girls would be on a Porn Squad instead of a Pom Squad. Because that's totally logical. And not at all illegal.

Later that afternoon, we went to play some tennis. Now, one thing to know here is that Jack played tennis all through high school, whereas I took one week of lessons back when I was 16. I know the basics of the game, and can hit the ball, but not very hard and not very accurately. I still like to play, though, because it's fun to hit balls, and it's a good workout (that's what she said). While we played, Jack was refreshing me on the rules, giving me some pointers on my backhand, and so on an so forth. We were on our last game of the match (he had already won 5 games, I had won one and it was clear he'd be winning the 6th shortly), he tells me "now honey, when you get shut out on the final game of a match, you've been 'banged' - that's what they call it when that happens."

"Really? That's weird."

Shortly thereafter, he won the last point and I loudly announced "I just got banged!" to try out my new tennis lingo.

I thought it sounded funny, but who am I to argue with a long time tennis player, right?

Fast forward to last night. We're about to go to sleep and Jack says, quite ominously, "Honey, I need to come clean about something, because if I die in my sleep or something I just can't have this on my conscience."

"Um....okay, what?"

In my head I'm thinking he's going to say something like 'I slept with your best friend!' or 'I killed a puppy yesterday just for fun!' because my mind goes to places like that when someone starts a statement the way Jack did.

He continued: "In tennis, there's no such thing as 'getting banged' - it's not a tennis term at all. So if someday you're playing with someone else, I just don't want to be responsible for you saying 'YOU BANGED ME!' Okay?"

After over a year, he is finally figuring out just how incredibly gullible I am. It's about time. I, however, still apparently have not figured out that Jack is always lying to me. Hmph.

Jill's Brilliant Blog Idea

So, I have this great idea for a blog, but there is no way I could possibly follow through on it, because I am too easily embarrassed. If anyone else wants to do it, by all means go ahead, and then give me the URL.

I was thinking it would be really funny to do the following: I'd create a totally normal Match.com profile. I'd schedule dates with unsuspecting lads via emails that were also totally normal (or "normal" by my definition, which Jack would say is anything but normal, but whatever). Then I'd show up with the goal of being the strangest date that guy has ever had. Maybe I'd wear moose ears and speak completely monotone; maybe I'd tell him at the outset that I have narcolepsy and then "fall asleep" every 5 minutes for a few minutes; maybe I'd dress up like a clown and make balloon animals for him. My favorite, though, would be much simpler than that: I'd bring a note pad on the date and start asking him standard first date questions. As he answered, I'd write down everything he said and then make commentary under my breath: "Likes to work out....can't really tell by looking at him though", "not close to family...RED FLAG", "likes to hang out with friends in free time....I question if these 'friends' really exist" - you know, insulting stuff like that. Then I'd blog about each date's reaction to my nuttiness. I think it would be absolutely fantastic - if I could actually pull it off.

I brought this idea up to Jack, and to my surprise he was all for it. I thought he'd protest because it would mean I'd be going out on dates with other men, but apparently Jack is in no way worried about another man being interested in a clown who says insulting things. Frankly, I'm hurt. I mean, I make some pretty impressive balloon animals. I really think he is underestimating my allure!

Jill's Advice for Men: What NOT to Say to Your Girlfriend

A few weekends ago Jack and I went bike shopping so I could get a speedier, fancier bike. After talking to the sales person about the differences between men's and women's bikes where it was noted that women's bikes tend to have a little bit wider saddle, Jack turned to me and said this:

(Pointing to the largest seat ever manufactured in the history of bike seat manufacturing) "So, you should probably get this seat since you have wide hips."

Me: [Death glare, death glare, death glare]

Jack: "You as in WOMEN, not YOU specifically as a person....I meant, um, women....?"

A few days later, I bought some of those padded bike shorts. Have you ever worn those? Well, they are the most hideous things on the planet. They make it look like I have the world's biggest, most obvious cameltoe ever. When I pointed this out to Jack (not that it needed pointing out, mind you) I think he had learned his lesson from the bike seat talk, because he keeps telling me I couldn't look bad in anything - not even cameltoe shorts. Good boy.

Honesty is the Best Policy (Most of the Time)

Fellas, this one's for you. You know the old adage, "Honesty is the best policy?" Well I'm here to tell you that this adage needs to be revised as follows: Honesty is the best policy, most of the time. Without further ado, here are the six specific situations when honesty is not the best policy (oh, and Jill's comments are in red):

(1) When your significant other asks you if your ex-girlfriend was attractive.
The answer should always be, "she was average or maybe slightly above-average, but not nearly as attractive as you."

(2) When your significant other asks you if you think she's gained weight recently.
The answer is always, "no." Always.

Jill says: I had to break this down for Jack--we women always, ALWAYS know when we've gained weight. So if you think you're being helpful by pointing it out, well, you're not. It's called "kicking us when we're down and then not getting any lovin' for a while because now you've made us feel like we're gigantic and disgusting looking!" I don't recommend it.

(3) When your significant other asks you if she's the best lover you've ever had.
The answer is always, "yes." Always.

Jill says: What self respecting human asks this anyway? I mean, if it's not offered up, chances are you're not #1....so by asking, you're either going to hear a truth you don't want to hear and then obsess about it, or you're going to hear a lie and know it's a lie. If he doesn't tell, don't ask.

(4) When your significant other asks you if you find her best friend attractive. I don't care if her best friend is Angelina Jolie; you do not think she's attractive! If you can't bring yourself to lie, say something ambiguous like, "I think she's nice."

(5) When your significant other says something like, "My mom can be a bit annoying sometimes, can't she?"

This is a trap. Do not agree with her. Trust me on this one, please.

(6) When your significant other shows you a picture of Wendy Larson - her arch-nemesis in high school - and asks you if you would have had any interest in dating her when you were 17.
Ideally, you should wince and say, "Uggh, no way."

Jill says: That Wendy Larson was a whore! I don't care what you say, she was a dirty little trollop whose breast size was inversely proportionate to her brain size (note: BIG boobs, tiny brain, in case I lost any of you there with my math-like talk).

So if you ever find yourself in any of these six situations, please remember: honesty is not always the best policy. Let me know if you think I missed any.

Help! It's a TICK ATTACK!

I know Jack is working on a post about his visit to Hickville, USA, but since he's a little slow at posting, I figured I'd humor you with a story about said visit.

As I mentioned, I grew up in the country. My hometown is 80 miles from a McDonald's, okay? I think we may be the only such community. And yes, I am using distance from a McDonald's as a measure for how rural a place is. In my case: very rural.

Well, as is often the case in the country, there is a decent amount of wildlife where I grew up. There are deer and moose and coyotes, all of which are beautiful and majestic creatures....and then there are the less majestic creatures, like wood ticks. They're pretty gross and I don't particularly enjoy them, but they're sort of a fact of life up there. Since Spot and his 2 doggy cousins were out and about exploring the countryside quite a bit, they were bound to get a tick or two. Or ten. Or thirty. So one afternoon Jack and I are lying in bed watching TV with Spot wedged between us. Jack is petting Spot absentmindedly and I'm nearly asleep when all of a sudden I get smacked on the arm:

"Honey, honey, wake up. WAKE UP. Is this a wood tick? IS IT?" (pointing at Spot's head)

Sleepily, I feel around on Spot's head and determine that yes, he has a wood tick. I pull the tick off and go to get rid of it. In the 30 seconds I'm gone, Jack has completely torn apart the bed, feeling all over for any sign of rogue ticks roaming around.

"Jack, ticks don't really like to attach themselves to lifeless sheet sets and comforters. They much prefer to be on a living being - like dogs or humans."

Immediately his shirt is off and he's running to the bathroom to get a look at his skin in the mirror. I follow him and he says "ARE THERE ANY ON MY BACK? LOOK! LOOK! ARE THERE? CHECK MY BAAAACK!"

Seeing none I say "no.....and are you okay?" Honestly, I was trying to control my laughter at this point. You would think he had just had a close encounter with a tiger or something.

"Well I don't want to get Lyme disease!! "

"You can't get Lyme disease just from seeing a tick, honey. They have to bite you, and then hold on for quite some time. I'm pretty sure you're going to make it there, tough guy."

We've been back for over a week and he was never actually bitten by a tick, but I wouldn't doubt it if he's still doing a pretty thorough check every night anyway. City boy.

Jill Brings Jack to the Birthplace of Rock Picking

Just last night, Jack and I were talking about how different our backgrounds are. He grew up in the suburbs of a large metropolitan area, where he was exposed to things like "rap", "hip hop", "stylish clothing" and "diversity" from a young age. He spent his weekends going to concerts, using public transportation, and learning all kinds of slang words that I still don't know and probably never will.

I, on the other hand, grew up in Hickville, Midwest USA. I spent the first 18 years of my life on a farm outside a town of 130 people. My high school class consisted of 10 people, and I went to school in the same building from kindergarten through 12th grade. Everyone around me was pale and blond just like me, with the exception of 1 adopted kid who stood out like a sore thumb (he could play basketball and dance, you see). I spent my weekends doing things like driving grain truck for my dad, mowing our lawn (a 6 hour job), and combining during harvest. Sometimes we'd mix things up and my dad would drive us along in a field while we "picked rock" - it is exactly what it sounds like: we picked big rocks out of the (~50 acre) fields and threw them into the back of a pick up truck*. I know, it sounds truly magical, doesn't it? Try not to be jealous.

Anyway, I've been to Jack's childhood home a few times, but due to the fact that my childhood home is a 7 hour drive away and there's absolutely, positively nothing to do once you get there, he hasn't been there yet. Well, that won't be the case after this weekend.

I am not sure either of us is ready for this. I mean....I've told him stories but I don't think he quite gets it. Yesterday I texted my uncle (who's only a few years older than me) to see if he'd be around to meet Jack this weekend. He texted me back "I will be. Do I need to bring any guns?" I wrote back "Haha nah, he's a good one. See you this weekend then!" Unlike in the past (where he seriously would have brought guns in an effort to intimidate my boyfriends), he was actually kidding, and wrote back: "I was thinking more like he'd want to shoot them than me having to shoot him!" Oh. Woops! Jack has decided he really sees no reason for guns to be around at all . Probably wise.

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* They make machines that do this for you, but my dad said that with 4 able bodied daughters, why on earth would he spend money to buy a machine??

Jack Thinks Boys Can Kick Farther than Girls

It’s me, Jack. For years people have debated which gender is more attractive. Men typically cite the fact that many male animals are more attractive than their female counterparts (e.g., ducks, peacocks, lions). Women typically cite Angelina Jolie.

Well…for once and for all, let me put this issue to rest: women are more attractive than men. How do I know this, you may be wondering? It’s simple; there are way more men out-kicking their coverage than there are women out-kicking their coverage. Come to think of it, I don’t know if I’ve ever met a woman who’s out-kicking her coverage. Seriously, has anybody seen a couple where the guy is actually more attractive than the girl? (Present company excluded, of course.)

Recently I’ve been blown away by the number of aesthetically-asymmetrical couples I’ve seen walking around. When Jill and I were at the Honolulu Airport, I saw a 5’5” chubby guy who looked like Harry Caray holding hands and acting all romantic with a girl who could have been a stunt double for Halle Berry. This capped off our week in Hawaii, where I spotted at least 20 couples that consisted of a guy who was a 4 or lower with a girl who was an 8 or better.

If you don’t believe me, take a look at these couples. Mandy Moore and Ryan Adams. Seal and Heidi Klum. Christina Aguilera and this dude. And maybe most shockingly of all: Cate Blanchett and her husband!

When I brought this issue up to Jill, she came up with some nonsensical reply like, “men are more attracted to physical appearance, while women are more attracted to personality, among other non-superficial things.” (I don’t remember exactly what she said, as I wasn’t really listening; I was too busy staring at her beauty.) Honestly, I don’t buy the concept that women are less superficial than men are. At all. I think it just comes down to this: women are generally more attractive than men. Sorry, dudes, but it’s true. (There’s just no other explanation for all of the out-kicking of coverage that’s happening nowadays.)

If you’re still not convinced, post a comment within the next 15 seconds that references a couple where the Mr. is better looking than the Mrs. (And, no, you can’t use Jill and me as your example*.)

So, now it's time for you to vote!

Which gender out-kicks their coverage more often (looks-wise)?
	Men
	Women
	It's about equal
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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*Of course I’m joking. I’m so far outkicking my coverage with Jill that I should probably change my e-mail address to CateBlanchett’sHusband@gmail.com.