Romance advice from J.M., a.k.a. “Mucho Suave” (So Very Smooth)
My motto has always been, “Clothes Make the Casanova.” Wear something sexy. Something delectably spicy. What sweet lady can resist a prospective gentleman lover who dons a mango-colored silken blouse and … wait, what’s this? … the gentleman somehow has forgotten to button the top four or five buttons? Oh, muy delicioso. Aye, lady lover, feast thine eyes upon my black chest carpet, spilling forth from my camisa not unlike a small woodland creature, his dark, bushy tail fluttering to and fro as he burrows into a fallen tree, building a love nest for his own sweet lady creature. It’s quite true that Chest Mane al Fresco is a dish that few ladies dare resist.
Pants — should you feel the need to wear them at all — must be scintillatingly tight. Your legs must be like tasty sausages, ready to burst from their ripe sausage skins. Considering a pair of leather pants? Please don’t let ME stop you. (Hint: For a less expensive yet slightly sweatier alternative, try Pleather.) Jeans are a superb choice as well, but try a pair with rivets on every seem, and make sure the bell-bottom flair is large enough to completely shelter a car tire.
Shoes, they represent the … how do you say … sweet cherry atop the “chocolat” sundae of wardrobe? Your selection of footwear very well could be the difference between a warm embrace with a mysterious lady on the dance floor (good) and that same lady demanding that you, “Please stop staring at me like that, sir” (not so good).
In a word, you cannot go wrong as long as your shoes pass the “Black Plum Test.” Put on your shoes and have a trusted compadre roll the sweet, ripened fruit under the crux between your heel and the floor. If your heel is tall enough to allow the plum to pass with ease, prepare yourself for an evening of the tango, which — as you well know, my friend — requires two.
Romance advice from Ron, a.k.a. “El Capitan” (The Leader)
His advice on how to be a … how do you say? Ah, yes … Casanova:
Three simple words: TALK LIKE A FOREIGNER. Observe: “Ola, La Quinta, I am El Capitan. I speak of the wonders of loving? Your eyes, they are … how do you say … beautiful like dog, no?”
(Editor’s note: Man, are you just melting?)
All you must do is pretend that you have a sexy, romantic accent, like mine. Ladies cannot resist the foreign gentleman (and, if I am no mistaken, the word “Casanova” is from a foreign language … Australian, I believe). Just pick any of the Latin languages, such as the beautiful Spanish or the lovely Italian. But beware, do not pick the actual real-live Latin language, because that’s only used by doctors and on coins and fancy things, and you’ll end up sounding less like a sexy Casanova and much more like a monk. (Let us face it … saying, “E pluribus unim, lorem ipsum dolor,” is not going to make any sweet lady become weak in the knee.)
So, now you must decide: Which country will you lie about and say that you come from it? It’s probably a fine idea to pick a Central American country (I suggest the real Central America; not from that fake Central America that has a Nebraska and a Kansas), because those tiny countries are all full of strife and “revoluciones” and you can pretend that you “wear a badge of honor for my homeland.” Ladies do much swooning for a Casanova who has a homeland full of strife. It makes them yearn to cuddle you up in a poncho like a snuggly little “man burrito.” And don’t forget that walking around yelling “Viva Nicaragua!” sounds pretty manly. No, go, my little friend, and make for the loving.
Romance advice from Brad, a.k.a. “Muy Caliente” (So Spicey)
Believe me or not, but I have found that one of the best ways to woo even the most cold-hearted of womens is to break down and sob, face in hands, any time you see a thing which is of beauty. For example, say you are taking your lady friend for a drive in your auto motorcar. You notice that the sun is dipping low onto the horizons and reflecting quite beautifully off the bird emblem on the hood of your 1978 Trans Am. Your lady may be telling you a random story — such as how she wishes you would remember to dispose of the mouse-sized ball of chest hair that collects in the bathtub drain EVERY DAY. But try this: Suddenly, in the middle of her not interesting story, you grasp her arm as if to say, “Hush! Hush now! Something so beautiful is what I see!” and you pretend to be beyond words as you dramatically point at what actually might be a fairly regular-looking sunset (trembling with your pointing hand is a nice touch). Then, to complete the moment, you pull over to the side of the road, bury your face in your hands, and begin to sob like a tiny baby child. She? She is loving you for the beauty you see in all small things. Shes will says inside her brain, “This man … this beautiful man … he sees something so simple as a sunset and makes a tears? I will perhaps let him touch my bosom area.”
The bury-your-face-in-hands-and-sob-because-it-is-SO-BEAUTIFUL thing can be used when you discover many different things: a colorful leaf, wind blowing on whispy grass, even a man-made objects such as a pretty ashtray. It also works nicely for distraction when your lady friend is complaining about the chores that you never, ever do.
I also recommend wearing an original concert T-shirt from any of the following bands: Dixie’s Midnight Runners, Minnie Ripperton, Michael Jackson (pre-1982), Helen Reddy. the blond guy from Starsky and Hutch. Size selection: Choose a shirt two sizes too small, and be sure your lower belly is able to peek out in a deliciously coy fashion. Happy loving, my amigo.You are welcome.
Romance advice from Mark, a.k.a. “El Guapo” (The Handsome One
Ladies love the attentions, so I always shower my special lady with loads of attention. Note that I said, “special lady,” because special ladies love to be called that. You’ll like very much to write that down. I like to make sure that my lady knows that I’m always watching her oh-so-closely, my eyes scanning her body not unlike the trembling fingers of a blind man exploring a ripened ava-CAH-do for the very, very first time. Say I’m reclining on the divan, relaxing and flipping through a recent copy of Ebony magazine, and, my lady walks across the shag carpet before me. My eyes snap to her as if some sort of “Snap-to-Guides” box in my eyeballs had a checkbox checked, or, perhaps like a cheetah might eye a skittering tit mouse in the tall prairie grass. Either way, the point is thus: I totally look right at her.
Where was I going with this? Ah, yes. Mucho atencion. So I speak to her in low, hushed tones — triggering some animalistic listening part of her brain which silently beckons, “Listen to the low, hushed tones” — and I say to her, “Sweet lady … do mine eyes deceive me, or has that caboose or yours shed a pound or five?” Special ladies always love to hear the suggestion that their caboose (read: fanny) has gotten smaller, even if she quite obviously has gained 10-15 pounds on a steady diet of Arby’s. Another thing they love is when you choose to whistle long and low and ask if you can get an order of fries with that shake.
Romance advice from Ragan, a.k.a. “Senior Amor” (Mister Love)
One very sexy thing I have used in my expansive and well-documented career as a lover is amazingly simple. The technique is called “The Hush.” I will demonstrate The Hush through some fabricated dialogue.
- Your Special Lady: “Say, I was thinking we might go grab some dinner and maybe see a movie because –“
- You: (Quickly interjecting by placing a single, vertically raised index finger in front of your pouting lips and whispering) “Hush, my little chicken. Do not speak.”
- Your Special Lady: “Yeah. Well, um, there’s this new Ben Stiller movie that looks pretty funny and –“
- You: (Again with the quick interjection, whispering even softer): “Hush, my sweet, sweet pumpernickel. Don’t speak!”
- Your Special Lady: (possibly very irritated now) OK, you know what? Stop doing that. Don’t. Look, I just think that a movie —
- You: (Interjecting loudly, whispering with a bold and gravelled voice) “Hush! Little swan! Do not speak!”
After your third use of The Hush within any single conversation, slowly start to unbutton your shirt while maintaining eye contact. Do not so much as blink. The sexiness will overwhelm her and she will be like putty in your head. Other than that, I mostly have had great success by tricking or trapping women in wide variety of ways. (Note: My lady trapping techniques are legal and sanctioned by state wildlife authorities in Texas, New Jersey, and Virginia, excluding Fairfax County.)
Another good technique: Try looking really sad and telling them you have a kind of cancer that is deadly but (and this next part is very important) not contagious. Either that or stick a potato in your pants (but not in the back of your pants). That’s about all I’ve got. This, she is my gift to you. No go, little bird, fly to the ladies and make lovings. |
