Sex Studies Good For Heart Health

Ripped from the headlines: Irregular physical activity, including sex, can trigger heart attacks.

The idea that is found out to be true, and supported by this study from Tufts and Harvard University, is that "regular" exercise can decrease the risk of cardiovascular disease and death associated with it. We must be a bunch of dumbasses to have had some Ivy Leaguer scientists conduct a study to tell us something we've pretty much known for quite a few decades now.

More or less, it turns out that people who are out of shape or lead more sedentary lifestyles are more than 2 1/2 times more likely to suffer a heart attack in the midst of "sporadic activity" or the once in awhile occurrence of sexual escapades, than those who get regular physical exercise, which it turns out, sex can qualify as your exercise, as long as you do it regularly.

As one of the cofounders and head resident doctor at the James Medical Institute's Midwestern Regional Campus, let me be clear on one thing. When they say sex as exercise, they mean sex involving another person (full disclosure: some regions of the country allow for the other party to be a herding animal, preferably your own). Masturbation, no matter how frequent or frenzied it may be, does NOT qualify in the same realm, and has its own set of benefits (a healthy prostate in males, state law barred us from researching female tendencies), and risks (mainly a bad case of 'tennis elbow').




Often, you hear stories of old guys collapsing from a heart attack while outside shoveling snow during the winter. Or at least you used to. With the advent of wonder drugs like Viagra or Cialis, the old men have overcome their decreasing ability to maintain sex-drive and get plenty of practice attempting to keep up with their wives' seemingly endless rise towards peak sexual overdrive. Which in turn has created two new situations...increased STDs in nursing homes, and new employment of young kids to scoop the old geezer's driveway and sidewalks because the old man is still resting from last nights 3 hour romp with the Mrs, sponsored by Viagra. For the manly old men, who still choose to scoop their drives and walks, they don't fall over dead nearly so often anymore, due to that increase in their sexercise routine.

However, thanks to technology that has brought us things like blogging and facebook and email, the rest of us, who don't have medicare paying for our sexual stimulation yet, have become lazy and fat. For some reason, the fast food and high fat content foods we eat now no longer get absorbed and released quite like it did when we were kids. As a rentacop, I am especially prone to this, because only craptastic food is available at 3am when I get hungry, and as a rentacop, I am essentially a non-exercising blob of lard all night long. I really don't have to work all that hard, and everywhere I have to go to, I drive there. Now some might suggest that I could solve the food issue, by buying foods to make my own lunches and bring them with me for when I get hungry at work. To you people I say: Look up a few lines where I mentioned the part about us being lazy. You also say, take some time out of your day to exercise, and that will help. Again: LAAAAZYYYYY. Besides that, when I get home, it takes every ounce of energy I have just to put this blog out for you to read, and to peruse my facebook making snarky comments everywhere.




So, as a self-made doctor, I have come up with a solution to solve my problems. All you female peoples are just going to have to sacrifice yourselves for the greater good, and have sex with me. Its as easy as that. You get something, I stay healthy and continue doing what I do to enrich the world by just being me. And, I'll save money by not having to go thru expensive carpal tunnel or tennis elbow surgeries. And just to be on the safe side, let me stress that this "Health Study" is only accepting (human)FEMALE participants.

Technology and Viruses

Times use to be a lot simpler. It used to be that when you brought home a TV dinner from the store, you preheated the oven (or not), and then stuck it in there to cook for 25-28 minutes (or until fully cooked). Then technology came along and we had microwaves. We ooh'd and aah'd over how quickly our meals were hot and ready to eat. Then one day we were extra hungry, so instead of the regular TV dinner, we bought a Hungry Man meal. And in our technology driven impatience get irritated that we are now spending almost 10 whole minutes or more for our meal to be ready instead of the 5 to 6 it takes for the normal sized TV dinners. Who knew that getting your old fashioned TV dinner into your mouth 20 almost 20 minutes quicker than it was when you were growing up would be a source of great consternation? Never mind the fact that you just took a big bite of the mashed potatoes straight away and spent 5 minutes with a stupid look on your face, your mouth open trying to suck in air, along with a cold drink because the mashed potatoes were so damned hot you thought you were going to set your mouth on fire!

Back in the 90's we were lucky to find a friend with the internet in his home. With that dial-up connection that kept telemarketers from bothering you, and you had access to all kinds of information without having to go to the library anymore was just so great. The technology came along and created broadband and high speed connections, which meant even more information coming even quicker. Then you go back home and see your parents in po-dunk nowhere, where the internet is still dial-up and you find yourself pissed off because your stupid friggin email won't load fast enough. You logged on at 8am, and sometime around noon you'll be able to see just how many emails you have in your inbox. It'll be 1pm or better before you even think about reading the first one, of 50! The damned post office could get correspondence between you and a friend faster than this stupid dial-up internet stuff! Hell the Pony Express could come back, pick up your handwritten documents in Maine and have them to your cousin in California, and return with a handwritten reply by the time your stupid email finally is accessible! And God forbid you clicked the wrong link... It'll be next Wednesday before you figure out what you did and get back to where you wanted to go online.

So you go back home, where you have your high speed internet, and you log into your email only to find the page loading even slower than it was on your parents dial-up connection. Apparently your porn viewing habits led you to a few viruses. Now everything you try to do on your computer only further bogs it down until it quits working altogether. And you know, you just know, that when you call in some tech support help, both over the phone and the in your home repair guy, that they are laughing to themselves about your porn addiction. They're going to run some tests and find out you have some oddly coded error that clearly points to your Goat in High Heels Porn fetish websites...you really are a sick bastard by the way, but hey, it's your money buddy!

As some of you know, I have acquired a cell phone in the past couple months. Something I swore I'd never do, and yet, I now ashamedly admit that it is convenient, especially since I don't have a land line anymore. Most people are probably thinking at this point, who needs a land line when you have a cell phone? Well, stuff it! I'm a bit old-fashioned, and I liked it that way. This is only changing out of necessity. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself. Although if I get a lower sperm count down the road, or get some brain cancer from irradiation out of my cell phone, CEOs, and a few dear cell-phone carrying friends of mine will surely die before I do...by my hands!

Then you have the capability to link your phone number and the internet together. I'm not talking about intertwining their separate functions together somehow, although I'm sure that can be done, but it's way above my pay grade to know how. I'm talking about how you can post someone's personal information online. Like your own.
Sometimes out of a perceived necessity, desperate times call for desperate measures. So, I'm going to expose myself a bit here purely for your entertainment at my expense.

Anyways, so there is this guy, we'll call "Craig", who made an online list that you can post ads on, as well as reply to other ads. You can post a notice of a garage sale you're having, or if you want to buy or sell your home, or you can do none of those and post an ad that you are on the meat market, or reply to an ad about somebody else who put themselves on the meat market. And with a little bit of luck two perfectly good strangers can hook up and satisfy whatever needs or desires they wish to have fulfilled. Because hey, whats a good time and a couple of painful and possibly incurable STDs between strangers? Now I'm not saying I did this, but I'm also not not saying I did this.

Okay so I did this (Clearly I would never outlast any enhanced interrogation techniques by trained operatives). After a long relationship with at least semi-regular adultish activity (sex for those of you who couldn't follow my drift), it has been a long dry spell for me. Being put in a position of non-attachment, I figured what the hell. So I posted an ad and provided my contact information right there online in the form of my cellphone number in the event people wanted to bypass the more anonymous email replies. The email replies were pretty dumb. Mostly just some lame ass person trying to get you to sign up to some dating/sex/webcam website and pay money for a fantasy in your own head that you could've done with less effort before you end up just taking matters into your own hands so to speak and applying a bit of elbow grease...um, or something...

However, some real people seem to exist and reply to your ads. Some thru the email system, but a few end up texting me on my phone. SCORE!!! Mookie is in business! Well, sort of but not really. Had a few females on the line for a moment or two, but then they mysteriously disappeared without a trace... Oh well, guess you can't miss what you never had. Then I got a text one night just after I get off work, and its another female. And she sends a picture to my phone. I'm staring at a midget looking troll of a woman. Look, yes, I'm desperate for a little action, but c'mon, even a guy with face made for radio has some standards. Maybe that makes me shallow, but ask me if I care. I had a hot wife, and I'm only going to lower my standards so far before I say thanks but no thanks. And then she starts texting dirty to me...ugh! I just ignored it, as by this time I'm trying to drive the icy streets of Des Moines to do my job. I don't need the stimulation of what this troll must look like when stimulated with a little battery operated device to aid her....BLECH!

But then I get this other text another time... Things are progressing decently, and the person wants to meet me, and SOON! Details are worked out...logistically anyways. I forgot to ask a couple VERY important questions of a person who found me via the internet. Like say, a facial pic? And maybe ACTUAL Gender???? I posted on a men for women. I was naive enough to believe that only women would respond. When I'm getting close to this person's house, I sent them a text letting them know. Then the answer to one unanswered question is offered up with the simple reply: "I'm a guy."

WELL NOW! I whipped a u-turn and reversed course. Look, if you're gay, that's fine. Be gay, and have a good time with it. But don't be looking to hook and turn a straight guy out. Have some common fucking courtesy for pete's sake! I informed the guy that now the "she" I thought he was turned out to be a he, I was out. He then attempted to justify the okayedness of him performing an oratorical performance for me. (It's only..., and No one will have to know...)

Yeah no thanks. I'LL know, and that's too many people that don't want to know. Again I have no problem with gay people. Some really good friends of mine are gay. I'm happy for them, and we all accept each other for who we are and what our preferences in life might be. However, the way this dude led me on as though he was a female almost all the way up to his doorstep...well to hell with being PC, that is outright faggotry in the most evil and despicable way. And yes, I said faggotry. You don't like it, tough, deal with it, I'm not here to avoid offending people. There are gay people and there are faggots. And a gay person trying to turn out a straight guy with a bit of deception followed by trying to reason it out as to why it should happen anyways...that's a faggot, plain and simple. They have a men for men section, and women for women section. If you want to go to the list made by Craig to get in on the meat market action to find someone of your gender, you have those options plainly listed. I'm just glad for both me and that guy that he didn't let me ring the doorbell to his house. Because he would have at least ended up in the hospital and I in jail. And no, before anyone mentions the idea of Mookie committing a hate crime, no it isn't a hate crime. He would be beaten for his deceptive and lying ways, not his sexual orientation. I still shudder a bit thinking about it, but it is my own idiocy that got me there. IF I should choose to go the route of trying to obtain some meaningless satisfaction with another willing adult participant through the same medium, I will most definitely be requesting the gender AND pictorial proof of this. And even then, I may drag a buddy along with me just to make sure its kosher at the meet up.

SO yeah, technology is wonderful, but it can lead down some bad roads if you choose to go those routes...at least I didn't pick up a virus along the way

Random Observations of Localized Events

First off, Ninja Kitties. Might be an even bigger threat to us than headless chickens. Not sure, but President Obama has personally assured me that he will have a team of researchers look into this. Now I know what you're thinking. President Obama and I don't exactly mesh politically, so why would he have personal conversations with me? Well, there is one really good explanation for that. I am a really really important person. My self-importance was so overflowing that it seeped out into the real world. President Obama realizes this, and has determined, through the use of well placed mobile teleprompters that my input is actually valuable on a global level to the point of conducting useless threat assessments of unverifiable and illusory entities. Anyways, back to ninja kitties...

While on the job, I pulled around to the back of the parking lot at St Luke's, to scan my babysitter strip, which can verify that I actually went to this place instead of just saying I did. I pull up about 5 to 6 feet away from the light pole that the strip is on. As I open the door, a flat-faced, fat but mean looking kitty backs away from the pole itself by about 5 to 6 feet. It stares at me, just licking its chops repeatedly. I approach the pole to scan the strip and I look down and see a lifeless squirrel laying in a depression behind the pole. Neither the evil ninja kitty or the squirrel were there on my previous stop almost 2 hours prior. The ninja kitty gave me my room, but showed no signs of fear. He just stared me down, still licking away at his chops in some sort of OCD-like manner.

Now, being in full Rent-a-Cop battle rattle, I had no fear of this kitty, ninja or not. I turned away and walked the 5 or 6 feet back to my car. I closed the door, and I looked back towards the cat. But Ninja Kitty was GONE!! I walk back to the pole and the squirrel...ALSO GONE. This was by no means a small squirrel, He had been plenty healthy in the girth department, and quite long. I wouldn't call the squirrel fat, but he was definitely husky, maybe big boned. Removing him from sight with no sound or sign of removal is quite a task. Either Ninja Kitty is one helluva ninja, OR....there was an entire squad of ninja kitties waiting in the tree branches above and in the treeline at the edge of the lot. All I know, is I saw a squirrel, and then I didn't see a squirrel. Spooky stuff, those ninja kitties!

THE TALK READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED HERE for mature material and sexual undertones

So my wife has been busy all year bullying me. She wants me to give "the talk" to my 10 year old son. There are a few problems with this. A- My mom of all people attempted to give me the talk. I ignored it in favor of the current sitcom on TV at the moment. Gave her a few "yeah yeah"s and "I know"s. B- I don't have clue one how to give 'the talk', and C- its my son:

God love the boy, but he is definitely still in the "girls have cooties" stage, and he pretty much doesn't notice girls unless they are playing in the game of tag with him. And he definitely doesn't notice girls as anything other than "not boys". but either way, they are going to have the "health class" sometime this school year where they tell boys about the changes and stuff. The girls get their own. I personally back in my day, would have preferred to pay the admission to that show. It has to be clearly more interesting than speaking about my stuff in medical terms. Besides, I had already seen my own stuff. Not much interest in staring at it.

So, my wife takes the youngest to the grocery store and suggests that TODAY WILL BE THE DAY YOU TALK TO THE BOY!...I had very adeptly pushed this talk off since she learned the class was coming and didn't want the school to be the one to introduce him to the subject.

So the talk was pretty bland. "Look, you are gonna get hair in your armpits at some point," I tell him. I am informed he knows that already. Fantastic, one idea down. Tackle the easy stuff first, then move on to the more delicate stuff. "And your stuff," I continue, "You're gonna get hair down there too" His response is "EEEWWWWW". I comforted him in the knowledge that none of us are pleased with that development, but that in fairness, women get hair down there too. Again with the "EWWWW" followed by a bit of cackling. As with most things, it seems the idea of bad stuff happening to other people is funny. Even if it sucks when its you as the victim, you'll still laugh at other people's expenses. Just the way our hideous minds work. I informed him, that as a blond it may not be so bad for him as it is for say, me, a darker haired individual Then I informed him that his stuff would also get a bit bigger. Again with the cackling. Clearly this is still beyond his maturity in comprehension. Hell its well beyond MY maturity in delivering the information. we weren't going into the sex talk yet...thank god...I may have had a stroke and died if I had to go there with a 10 year old. But, I still had to go way further than I wanted to. I had to explain that he will be going through hormone changes...he will begin to get funny feelings about girls where he actually starts to like them. I was greeted with a confused look, another "EWW" and a bit of nervous cackling to boot. Well, I think to myself...at least he isn't asking technical in depth questions that will task my abilities here. I would honestly rather be caught in the middle of a gunfight than deal with this. Hell I'd rather explain the technical details of what's going on with a newly lobotomized-by-gunfire brain laying in the street next to us in the middle of said firefight. I proceeded to explain the developing nature that kids his age only know as "the pre-morning pee" phenomenon, and how it would happen randomly from time to time, and not just for peeing. I explained that this is normal, and not to worry about it. He laughs some more.

If I were being graded on my ability to give this lecture, I assure you, not only would I get an "F", but I would be permanently banned from applying for any instructional position again. WOOF! was I glad to get that over with. Anyone want to volunteer to take the BIG talk with the kid for me?

So, on a related note, Buggy, our youngest clearly gets crushes on the pretty women. I'm pretty sure his teacher falls in that category. So, somehow or another, the nature of the conversation gets focused onto the oldest one, you know, "giggle at hair on YOUR private parts, but disgusted by it on his own" boy. Somehow his mom asks him if he likes any girls in his class, or any other class or whatever. He continues to look down and deny things. Oh, we grilled him for the better part of 15minutes as he attempted to deflect the conversation away from him with the ever clever "What question?" when asked to answer a question. It has been determined as I mentioned above, that he barely recognizes a girl as anything other than "not a boy". It turns out, none of he and his other guy friends even talk about the local chicks in the school yard. these kids these days....they are either smarter than we were, or not as mature in the ways of adult life at that age as we were in my generation.

Hell, I had a girlfriend when I was in the 2nd grade. She didn't know it, but yeah, she was my girlfriend. I walked her home from school once in awhile since she was going my way. I of course had to deny liking her when the older boys come around. Don't want to let her think she's got me locked down. I was 8 and a happening dude, gotta keep my options open, ya know. When her family moved away, I was heartbroken. Probably the most devastated guy I knew. Even made me cry in front of my mom. That only made things worse. Heartbroken and humiliated. As a man, crying in front of women, mom or not, was just unacceptable. I'm sure I had to change into superhero underwear to console my manhood after that moment. Either way I survived. And of course, all us guys were talking smack about who we liked, and what we'd do with those girls. Yeah, we really were studs. Strip down to our unds, turn on the 70s porn music and watch a kid who had no idea what to even do if he got there, try to put the sexy moves on some chick.

When I was 6 I had the biggest crush on this lady named Marlee. She was a friend of my aunt and mom. Ran into her at some party or get together or something at my aunt's house while we were out in California. I found Marlee, and then I was just talking my head off, finding ways to impress this older woman. She didn't know it, but she was my girlfriend at that point. She had replaced the babysitter who lived at the end of the block, I had left back in Iowa for a couple weeks. Yeah, I was quite the little Casanova. So good at my game, that I could occupy her time all afternoon and keep her from the rest of the adults...she was enamored with me, I know it, but in the end, I had to tell her t let me go. I had to go back to Iowa and elementary school and stuff. It was definitely better for her that we end it there, and let her find a man 'more deserving' than me. Yeah, I know, who is more deserving than me, but I know how to let a chick down gently. You have to, their gentle hearted creatures, and you never know what kind of psychological things might go on in their head if you mess them up too bad!

Then there was Junior high. I was informing my son, who didn't like any girls in his grade, (after asking him if he liked the 6th graders instead) informing him that its okay to go after the older chicks. Mentioned how I had a junior high English teacher, Ms. Forbes. She was beautiful, and I almost mentioned a highly touted and admired portion of her female anatomy, before I cut myself off realizing I was still talking to my 10 yr old son. My wife was just about ready to cold cock me to keep me from continuing on down the path of THAT story. But yeah, ALL the guys thought she was the hottest teacher we'd ever met. And of course, more stories about how we'd do things to her, and she'd be all flattered by us. Yeah, we were clearly trying to bat way out of our league. Not that it mattered. She was an old fashioned teacher. You know, one that doesn't go around sleeping with her students, like all these young ones do today that keep showing up in the news and on courtroom dockets across the country. Damn shame too. I would've wooed her with perfect grammar, and then well...you know, be a stud and all that stuff....just as soon as I found my superhero underwear.

But yeah, back to the conversation at the table with the boy. I tried all kinds of ways to trip him up in his own words. Now I have broken this boy before, and made him admit to his lying ways. He hates being grilled. I even told him about how we 'tortured' Noriega in Panama before him surrendering to U.S. forces, and how I could adapt that here until he gave up the girl's name that he likes. But he held strong. One of two things is going on here. He is either learning how to use the force properly and withstand my interrogations (not likely) or he really has a bona fide non-interest in the women folk at this point. And as far as I'm concerned, as his dad, I'm okay with that. Let the boy wait longer than I did, and I'll be happy.