Lately there’s been a lot of hype around the new Sex in the City movie that opens tomorrow. I don’t get it. The way I see it, those Disasters are all wrong.
I’ll tell you about city sex. I’ve been single long enough, I know how this is outsourced.
Last weekend I had a pedicure by a VERY hot elderly Vietnamese man who spent extra time on my bunions.
Then I had a haircut from a divorcee. Since he left his partner my shampoo lasts a good 7 minutes longer, and comes complete with a neck massage. Yum.
Then last night, as part of Operation Orgasmo, I had a 60 minute back massage from a 300 pound man named Nevil. He hit my knots so hard I almost puked.
And for the climax, I took myself out for gelato and ordered sex by chocolate (ok fine, it’s not called that, but it should be).
Ohhh yeahhh Chicago. Riiiiight there.
Now that, my friends, is the real sex in this city.
