Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know
By Wayne Elise Mad, bad and dangerous to know. That’s what they said about Byron the poet. He was a hell-raiser who seduced innocent, young women, made enemies, fought duels, slept with his cousin – that sort of thing. I think we need more of that type of behavior around here. An informal poll of women I know reveals a taste for men who are mad, bad and dangerous to know. “They’re sexy,” says Kelly. “I like a man who lives by his own rules,” says Kim. “I think it’s hot when a man wears eyeliner,” says Shannon, ” Is that what you’re talking about?” Sometimes it is, Shannon, sometimes it is. My friend Mike personifies the modern Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know Man. (not to be confused with instructor Mike who works at Charisma Arts and who’s also pretty MBD) Mike is someone I got to know because one day we realized we rode the same model Vespa – instant connection. Let’s take a look at his qualities. MAD: Sometimes Mike trims his hair baby-short and wears a dog collar. This makes him look scary. He and his girlfriend are taking part in a clinical trial in which they don’t brush their teeth for three weeks. Today he quietly handed me a note that said he was not speaking today – for fun. That’s just the sort of antisocial behavior that gives him the reputation of being mad. Completely mad. And mad can be sexy. BAD: Mike breaks rules. His girlfriend is 26 years younger. He attached the license plate to his Vespa with velcro to avoid parking tickets. He doesn’t mind telling someone to f*ck off. He once had sex with a girl on her boss’s desk, who was a raging feminist, just for the irony of [...]
Grooming 101: What to do about nose hairs.
By Wayne Elise Okay, let’s get down and dirty. Or up and nasty, depending on your point of view. I want to talk about nose hairs. Once upon a time I paid no attention to nose hairs. I was young and blissfully unaware. Other than the occasional stuffed-up variety of nose, I mostly ignored my appendage, counting on it to just go wherever I did and do it’s thing without any advice from me. But something unexpected happened on the way to middle age. Hairs began sprouting out of places I’d never expected. One night, after being rejected from my attempted make out with a friend, of a friend, of a friend, I took a look in the mirror and talked to myself, “That girl liked me. At least from afar. But when we got close, SHAZAM, nothing. What happened?” I breathed on the mirror. Hard to tell, but my breath seemed okay. I looked for other clues. True, I was pastey white. And I needed a shave. And I was a DUDE. How could any girl want to make out with a dude anyway? Yuck. Okay, I was getting off track. I moved closer, and that’s when I spotted them, peeking out like paintbrush bristles. Their roots buried up somewhere deep. Nose hairs! And, oh my sweet Buddha, some were snow white. Made me think of my father who has never trimmed his nose hairs, ever. They just grow down and merge with the hairs of his mustache. Neat, huh? But in other news, nose hairs DO NOT turn women on. Grooming is IN. Men are shaving their chests for Pete’s sake. A girl I know claims to only date men who shave their arm pits. The world has turned. Lumberjacks and burly men no longer run things. It’s [...]