Sex Goddess

This past January my Dad and I were perusing cheap bookstores in Chester, VA. Before I tell you about the bookstore, you should know that we had just come from JcPenneys. While there I used my trusty camera phone to take photos of some hideous prom dresses. They were white, with about twelve yards of white tulle, and they had black and gray sequins on them. I won’t post that photo here because I am sure that many a sixteen year old thought they were the coolest thing since sliced bread to wear to the prom.

Now, for that bookstore . . . Dad and I went into a discount bookstore, and while perusing I came across what I can only call the dumbest book I have ever seen.

Seriously. Now, if you need a book on how to be a sex goddess I personally think that you need to get out more. You know, there are these delightful places called BARS that anyone can be a goddess at. If you are low on self-esteem just walk into a trashy honky tonk. Drunk rednecks always call the girls pretty. If you’ve got lots of mojo (which I presume you wouldn’t be perusing this book for anyway) go to your local après work watering hole. You know the one with the men in business suits and twelve dollar martinis. But please, don’t be an idiot and read a book on being a sex goddess.

And yes, since when I see the absurd I point it out and send it to my friends, I sent this pic to all my girlfriends. My favorite response came from Tanfer. She said “If you wear those dresses you’ll need that book.” ‘Nough said.

Now, this goddess is off to find her own bad date in the produce isle at her local grocery store.