Gulliver’s Travels

Who can forget the image of Gulliver tied down by a network of threads, while tiny people about the size of chipmunks clamber over him? Or Gulliver fighting off rats as big as himself?

It’s a strange and interesting book, but on examination it is perhaps not the innocent kiddie fable popular opinion believes.

Jonathan Swift had a sharp and subtle pen, and it is fairly safe to say that if he wrote X he meant Y. One of his most celebrated essays solved the Irish Question by farming the excess population of babies, fattening them up for the table. The full title of his essay is A Modest Proposal for Preventing the Children of Poor People in Ireland Being a Burden to Their Parents or Country, and for Making Them Beneficial to the Public. He quotes, straght faced,

I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food…

He hides his true message at the end, supposedly deriding measures which would be fair and beneficial, such as taxing absentee landlords, rather than their impoverished tenants.

Gulliver’s Travels, purportedly the account of a seafarer cast away on various remote and unknown lands, is actually a penetrating satire on the European civilization of the day, and indeed of human nature in general. But I will not deal with his insights here.

Instead I quote a few passages that are bowdlerized out of any children’s editions. Here he is in Lilliput, land of the tiny folk, playing a part in extinguishing a fire in a royal palace, an episode for which he is subsequently accused of treason:

The case seemed wholly desperate and deplorable; and this magnificent palace would have infallibly been burnt down to the ground, if, by a presence of mind unusual to me, I had not suddenly thought of an expedient.  I had, the evening before, drunk plentifully of a most delicious wine … which is very diuretic.  By the luckiest chance in the world, I had not discharged myself of any part of it.  The heat I had contracted by coming very near the flames, and by labouring to quench them, made the wine begin to operate by urine; which I voided in such a quantity, and applied so well to the proper places, that in three minutes the fire was wholly extinguished, and the rest of that noble pile, which had cost so many ages in erecting, preserved from destruction.

Most children, I suspect, would be delighted to see such a scene included in a movie aimed at them.

Swift has a dig at sex and morals throughout the book, but nowhere more visibly so than his accounts of being entertained by the women in the land of the giants, Brobdignag:

They would often strip me naked from top to toe, and lay me at full length in their bosoms; wherewith I was much disgusted because, to say the truth, a very offensive smell came from their skins; which I do not mention, or intend, to the disadvantage of those excellent ladies, for whom I have all manner of respect; but I conceive that my sense was more acute in proportion to my littleness, and that those illustrious persons were no more disagreeable to their lovers, or to each other, than people of the same quality are with us in England.  And, after all, I found their natural smell was much more supportable, than when they used perfumes, under which I immediately swooned away.

That which gave me most uneasiness among these maids … was, to see them use me without any manner of ceremony, like a creature who had no sort of consequence: for they would strip themselves to the skin, and put on their smocks in my presence, while I was placed on their toilet, directly before their naked bodies, which I am sure to me was very far from being a tempting sight, or from giving me any other emotions than those of horror and disgust: their skins appeared so coarse and uneven, so variously coloured, when I saw them near, with a mole here and there as broad as a trencher, and hairs hanging from it thicker than packthreads, to say nothing farther concerning the rest of their persons.  Neither did they at all scruple, while I was by, to discharge what they had drank, to the quantity of at least two hogsheads, in a vessel that held above three tuns.  The handsomest among these maids of honour, a pleasant, frolicsome girl of sixteen, would sometimes set me astride upon one of her nipples, with many other tricks, wherein the reader will excuse me for not being over particular.

Perhaps the kiddies would rightly be disturbed by such a sight, much as Gulliver fails to be aroused!

Antique language aside, the book is a good read for those who can appreciate the sharp pokes Swift gives to so-called polite society.

Guy Sez: As all the world knows, the Marina Safeway is the best supermarket. Simply the best. You can hardly miss this fabulous place of legend as you tool by on the way to Sausalito for a night of delight, top down, the Bay on the right hand, the Bridge ahead, Cow Hollow on the left.

But just peel off to the right and park outside those big old government issue buildings. The old wharves at Fort Mason. There’s a funky stage made out of old car parts and computer guts, and there’s one of the best bookstores in the world. Book Bay, one of the outlets of the Friends of the San Francisco Public Library (the other one is at the library entrance, but not quite as much fun).

I’ve been hauling myself in here for years. It used to be half the size, and the shelves would tower over me in that authentic cramped bookstore fashion, as I browsed in wonder, reaching out with both hands on both sides to seize treasures.

God, but I love old bookstores! Shakespeare and Co in Paris, The Strand in New York City, Alice’s Bookshop in Carlton, and Larry McMurtry’s awe-dropping Booked Up in Archer City, where two girls and a cat run four huge stores spread over three blocks. But you don’t have to travel the world to find good bookstores. City Lights is proof of that. And Book Bay at Fort Mason underscores the fact.

Book Bay is now twice the size, and twice as good. It’s airy and bright, full of the aroma of books, Treasure Island fierce and tropical, the cooking section savoury, the smell of oil and leather from the Transport section, and a thrilling, musky smell from a half height shelf in direct eyeline from the sales desk.

I kind of thought the Sex and Erotica area, not to mention Gay and Lesbian, was better in the old corner, where you could study the illustrations in more detail, maybe adjust your clothing if necessary, without some cheerful grandmother looking at you with interest, or an intense young person crowding your space.

But hey, it’s all good. Just camouflage the good stuff under a Frank Lloyd Wright book about the size of a coffee table, check it out, and appreciate at your private leisure.

What did I buy? Apart from 50 Favorite Houses By Frank Lloyd Wright – a mouth-watering read for the architecture drooler – I found a couple of gems.

There’s a Bear in There (and He Wants Swedish) by an Australian lady called Merridy Eastman. I chose this for the weird title as much as the topic. One should always judge a book by its title, and this one promised delights. Where could this bear be hiding? And what was Swedish about him?

Merridy, it turns out, is a presenter on a popular children’s television program – hence the reference to teddy bears – who moonlights as a worker in a Sydney brothel. “As a receptionist!” she constantly reminds people. Be that as it might, she has a book full of tales to tell about the prostitutes, their wacky customers, and the joint owners of the establishment, who try to hide their earnings not just from the Tax Office, but from each other. Merridy wonders just what each night will bring, and there is always an adventure of some kind! “Hey, don’t I know you?” some puzzled father of toddlers will muse on entry, and Merridy makes herself scarce when he leaves, just in case the answer comes to him during a different sort of entry.

Hilarious, but ultimately it’s a story about the women who work in these places and what drives them to it. You know why the junkie is there, shooting up in the bathroom between business, but why the university law student, daughter of a good home and never shy of a buck? Is she really that fond of latex-shielded sex with random strangers?

Perhaps my other purchase would supply the answer: The Good Girl’s Guide to Bad Girl Sex: An Indispensible Guide to Pleasure & Seduction.

Unfortunately, while I leafed through it in the store and when I got it home, I can’t find my copy. Perhaps Grl has it. But hey, who isn’t interested in Bad Girl sex? Every Good Girl I’ve ever met has been fascinated by the subject – once the parents and the church elders are out of eyeshot.

Luckily, Amazon’s delightful ability to look inside the book gives much of the game away: Barbara Keesling, the author, is a sex therapist who has distilled her knowledge of the advice she hands out to women who come to her with hangups. You can get the good stuff for a few dollars instead of a few thousand in weekly sessions.

But I get the feeling there’s not a lot to it apart from the basic advice given by every therapist, sex or not. Get comfortable with yourself. The chapters on technique are fine, but there’s nothing startling. It’s a matter of attitude. Instead of lying there and taking it, climb on top and enjoy yourself. You have to suck a dick with love and enthusiasm, not as an act of duty. You have to guide your lover’s tongue to where you need it for your pleasure.

Just, well, enjoy yourself. There. Common sense advice dispensed for free and practical sessions available at all hours. Grl, what are you doing tonight?

Obviously, with a used bookstore, I can’t guarantee what’s in stock. But Book Bay is always worth a visit. You never know what’s going to turn up in that little half-height bookshelf. Even if it’s been stripped bare – or bear – the rest of the store is good for a happy hour of browsing, and they sell tote bags for the stack of books, and CDs and DVDs, you’ll surely accumulate.

And if you aren’t in San Francisco with we gentle people with flowers in our hair, riding a cable car halfway to the stars and so on and on, there’s always a second-hand bookstore somewhere in the neighbourhood. When you find one with an interesting shelf or two, let us know, will you? We’ll be right over.

—Guy Sez

This book should be read while you’re drunk with a lot of close girlfriends (not that kind of girlfriend!) – I imagine it would be a lot funnier under those circumstances. I started reading this on the road alone, with my Christian workmate – he opened it up and read a random paragraph – and I quote:

The Farewell Handshake
Relax – this isn’t as insanely boring as it sounds. If executed properly, it’s actually one of the flirtiest goodbyes you can use. Leave him with a slight, lingering handshake. Slide your fingers through his, gently grasping his fingertips at the last second. This is a very personal touch. To be blunt, it’s a lot like the first long caress a woman might give to a man’s penis. Depending on how you use it, it’s the kind of farewell handshake that could very well give him a hard-on. Talk about a sexy exit! (p.223)

The book started out well enough, giving me reasons to flirt, but as I kept reading, I kept cringing, thinking, please, don’t let people really believe that acting like this will attract a boy/girl. I don’t like this book. While I agree with some of what it’s saying, it comes across as being really condescending. I know it says at the beginning that you can flirt for a number of reasons – not just to attract a guy, but while reading it, it seems to place an extraordinary amount of emphasis on attracting guys.

Ok, so it comes across as being really condescending. Primarily because it’s aimed at straight woman and it seems to be telling me that all single straight woman are in need of a man!

After reading the chapter on double-entendres – everything sounds dodgy – following the section on handshakes, we picked up the phone book and read the section on what to do in an earthquake (to try and get the handshake out of our heads) – does “drop, cover, and hold on” sound dodgy to anyone else?

Makeup – I have it on good authority that some men/woman don’t like it when woman wear too much makeup! Or not even don’t like it, but it doesn’t do anything for them. I’m one of them – who someone is turns me on a lot more than what they look like. For example, I’m a sucker for a beautiful smile – it tells me so much more about what a person is like than their makeup!

The really ridiculous thing about this book is that I actually agree with bits of it – what it says about makeup is that it isn’t so much about attracting the opposite sex, but more about feeling sexy yourself – and this will help you be a confident flirter. Which I understand – but I think that if you are confident in who you are, then you’ll also be a confident flirter.

Handtouch by Penny Mathews

This book is aimed more at people who aren’t natural flirters. But when you get advice like the tips in the ‘Even More Advanced Flirt Tips’ section, I’m not sure it’s going to help! With advice like “Pose, pose, pose. Pretend you are a model and the paparazzi are just lovin’ you!”, “Wear very high heels. Mince, don’t walk”, and “If your high heels are stilettos, hop in them like a bunny. Use your imagination to pretend you’ve got a pom-pom on your ass. That’ll help remind you to shake it, baby when you’re not posing it.” Has the author ever talked to any real men, or if she’s been too busy just looking like she’s listening intently to them?

The author comes across as not having had much to do with men – she seems to assume that all men are the same! I know for a fact that this isn’t true – I would never say that any two people are exactly the same – what turns one person on might be a complete turn off for another.

To be fair, Marx does hint at this a little – she suggests that depending on what kind of man you’re trying to flirt with you should try different tactics. But this relies on you knowing the person or picking up on some of their body language – which I guess isn’t completely untoward, but even trying to tell what kind of person someone is by their body language isn’t completely fair I don’t think. And this book kind of proves it – not everyone is a natural flirter (or there wouldn’t be any need for a book like this right? Anyone following?) – so to judge someone on how they’re acting, while it can be fairly accurate, isn’t always.

Yes, there are some things I like about this book, for example, if you do want to act like this, it does have useful tips for you to follow. With step by step guides to acts of flirting, you can’t fail.

I honestly can’t believe I kept reading this! Especially after the following sentence. “All these moves [such as twitching your hips or shaking your booty] tell a guy that he’s dealing with a real woman…” How do these tell a man he’s dealing with a real woman! What is a real woman! Can I get an ‘argh’!

So, to conclude, this book was worth what I paid for it – nothing. (Big thanks to Guy for sending it to me!)
— Grl Sez

Guy Sez: I likewise expect a full review of the Ghirardelli bar that I gave you at the same time! Every sweet, lingering, melting mouthful caressed by your tongue.

This book reminded me of The Rules from a few years back. In each case, an artificial, forced relationship. Flirting should be fun, off the cuff, teasing and tingling. Not the Broadway production Eve Marx makes it into.

I did like the section on rules for flirting in the hot tub, though. As I read it, memories of an evening we spent in a hot tub came bubbling up!
— Guy Sez

Girl with a One-Track Mind – the UK original

Guy Sez: This is the international edition of the British book of the awesome sex blog of Abby Lee AKA Zoe Margolis.

Believe it or not, this book has been translated into fifteen different languages!

There is blogging success for you. Harry Potter and Dan Brown get translated across the world, but a book based on a blog? C’mon!

And how simple is it to write a book once you’ve got a year’s worth of solid posts? Just lift out the best, staple ‘em together, send the bunch to a publisher. Right?

Wrong! This book is obviously based on the blog, but it’s so much more. And less.

More, because there is material inside not found in the blog. It’s more of a coherent storyline than the fragmented life presented by Abby every day or so online. Many of the original posts are rewritten in a more elegant form.

Less, because many minor posts are omitted entirely or incorporated into other material. It’s not quite the “This is how I felt today, warts and all” writing of the blog.

But, unmistakably Abby Lee. There is no getting away from the constant rumble of sex thoughts through her mind and out into her blog. She glances at a guy and she’s imagining him stripped, erect, inches from her face. Or her pussy. And then she’s feeling him inside, and we’re along for the ride, while her fingers are busy down below.

This woman masturbates at the drop of a hat. She’s always ducking into the bathroom for a quick rub. Or working at herself under the table. Or on a train or a plane.

Her panties are always damp.

No wonder that some of her readers thought she was a man. Women don’t think about sex – and act on it – quite so much as Abby.

Or do they?

Zoe’s female. This book saw her exposed in national newspapers, and after a fair bit of trauma, with paparazzi camped outside her house etc. etc. she accepted the outing and is now a frequent sight on television, at conferences, in photographs. We’re awaiting the movie with keen interest.

As a book, it gets just a teensy bit repetitive. Bridget Jones’ Diary this ain’t. But it remains compelling reading to see how she copes with her powerlust. In the end, there’s a bit of a twist. Sex isn’t everything, we discover.

As a book of the blog, it’s a tangy, tasty serve of the website. You can almost feel the slickness begin as she has an evening out with some handsome hero. As a guy, I know what he’s thinking, and as a reader you know what she’s thinking, and you wonder why they bother with the wine and the small talk. That sexual flash in the eyes and she should be pulling him into the bedroom to get it over with!

Ah, but that would be getting to the climax all too soon, and the foreplay is half the fun. There’s a LOT of foreplay in this book. A lot of steamy thoughts, a lot of sex and a lot of fun.

Highly recommended. Don’t take it on a long plane flight, though. The little old lady in the seat beside you will try to sneak glances at the pages to see what is making you sweat and fidget, and you’ll be whipping off to the can for some relief, long before landing. If the cabin crew aren’t wary, they’ll be dragged in for an impromptu Mile-High Club membership.

Right. On that note, I’m shipping this book off to Grl, last heard from somewhere east of Tulsa.

–Guy Sez

I just read the most amazing book ever! It’s set just after World War Two in London and this little island called Guernsey (I’d never heard of it either!) Totally romantic love story

Ur Grl.

Grl,

Are you commanding me to read it? I just happen to be here at City Lights bookstore. txt me details and I’ll lift a copy.

Ur own Guy

Don’t make me tie you up again! YES BUY IT! The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society is the name of the game (isn’t that a wonderful name for a book!), and it’s by Mary Ann Shaffer.

Not surprised you’re at City Lights AGAIN…are you ever NOT there?

Ur Grl

Grl,

CL is a cool bookstore. OK. I’ve found it. Found a comfy chair. Will read. I think the title is longer than the book. Looks like it is written as a series of letters.

Guy, reading hard

I know it is ok, I just think you might have a small obsession….either with the books or with that cute girl with the beret….or both!

Yeah it’s written in letters – isn’t it great! Really gets you into the minds of the characters

Ur Grl

Grl!

This is a wonderful book! Utterly charming. Juliet Ashton, the main character, sounds like you. Literate, sparkling, outrageous. Except you haven’t written and published a book. Yet.

I just love the way the characters are introduced in letters they write. You get a feel from the details of the address, their salutations, the way they write… Here’s Dawsey Adams from Guernsey in the Channel Islands, writing to Juliet, because he owns a book with her name and address in it, and wants to know more:

Charles Lamb made me laugh during the German Occupation, especially when he wrote about the roast pig. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society came into being because of a roast pig we had to keep secret from the German soldiers, so I feel a kinship to Mr Lamb.

I think I can see where this is going…

Yours sincerely

Guy Sezual

Isn’t it great – Juliet is great, but just wait till you get to meet some other Guernseyites – my favourite is Isola.

Dawsey is a complete sweetheart though – he seems so wise to me, much older than he actually is…

I should warn you there’s a sad bit…but so many funny bits as well!

Grl,

So right about the funny parts! Juliet and her friends are wicked in their private letters to each other. Not sure I’m right about the plot. Juliet is being courted by a rich American now, and if I read between the lines, they are spending a LOT of quality time together.

The Guernsey people are a mixed bunch. All writing to Juliet to tell their side of the story of the GL&PPP (what a mouthful!) Society. Miss Adelaide Addison is funny, though she doesn’t mean to be:

Dear Miss Ashton,

Forgive the presumption of a letter from a person unknown to you. But a clear duty is imposed upon me… (snip a lot of snarkey gossip) …You must not write about these people and their books – God knows what they saw fit to read!

Yours in Christian Consternation and Concern,

Adelaide Addison (Miss)

Huh! Bet she’s a very old Miss! I’m liking the way that there are two or more sides to every story, and each character is doing their best to show their best side. That girl with the shaved head and red beret has come around a couple of times now. Maybe I’d better buy this copy.

Guy, reading as fast as possible

Have you read the character references yet? Those are f-u-n-n-y! Juliet gets two acquaintances to write to the Society so they know she won’t treat them frivolously… one woman (Lady Bella Taunton) who rather dislikes her:

I cannot impugn her character – only her common sense. She hasn’t any.

and the Reverend Simon Simpless who has known her since birth and loves her dearly….

Juliet was a stubborn but nevertheless a sweet, considerate, joyous child – with an unusual bent for integrity in one so young.

Despite Lady Bella sending an awful character reference, I still end up liking Juliet all the more for the complaints she has about Juliet!

Lady Grl

Grl,

Thanks for putting me onto this book. I’m eating it up and licking off the sauce.

So many characters! So many pieces of the puzzle. Juliet has visited Guernsey, and followed a lead to France, to find out what happened to one of the main characters. The German invaders are shown as brutal in some respects, but humane and kind in others. It must have been a very hard time, with the shortages of food, and I’m now understanding why they made pies out of odd ingredients.

Hungryguy

Not sure there’s be much sauce in this pie Guy!

That’s another thing I loved about this book, it doesn’t show all the Germans as evil…I know there were some evil people involved, but it isn’t possible for every single person from one country to be evil! I guess what I’m trying to say is that it shows a whole lot of really interesting personalities….and people, in a unique kind of way. Gives all the characters a chance to show who they really are.

Grl,

There’s so many threads, so many characters, so many nuances. So many sides. One thing bugs me a bit. The main character is Juliet Ashton, but she changes so much between the first half of the novel when she is a columnist in London preparing her second book, and when she is actually on Guernsey. She changes, and the ending becomes just a little predictable.

Yes, I’ve finished the book. Just as well, because it’s almost closing time!

Guy

Guy – I don’t think she changes…maybe how we see her changes, but ultimately she’s still Juliet Ashton, trying to find someone she can talk to AND be silent with….and I liked the ending! -Grl

Grl,

Perhaps it’s the tone of the narrative then. When she’s in London, we know she’s going to go to Guernsey eventually, but we’re wondering about what’s going to happen. When she gets there, meets all the people she’s been corresponding with, it’s like the story is on rails, just gliding into the station. The only real interest in the second half of the book is in finding out what happened to Elizabeth. It’s almost as if the author lost interest in her main character once she’d got her future sorted, and transferred the focus to another character.

But, having said that, I really enjoyed this story, and you’ve given me yet another excuse to while away half a day out of my remaining years in the most pleasant fashion.

The book has a steady narrative, a delightful range of characters, each one distinct and well-drawn. Perhaps most important of all, it is set on an island very few people would know about, and in a piece of history that is all but unknown. It’s a remarkable story in its own right, and adding in a love story written in period letters, it’s utterly charming!

Guy, charmed

I disagree with you on that point, Guy – I didn’t feel at all as though the only interest in the second part of the book was Elizabeth…YES, she is a major part of it, but there’s all those other characters we’re getting to know from other points of view – both Juliet’s and our own! –Grl

Grl,

You’re to blame for this book coming home to live with me. I read it all at a sitting, and the perfect end to the day was to take it to the counter, run it by that lovely lady with the cherry berry, and slip it into my backpack. I’ll read this again, and very likely I’ll buy copies secondhand to foist them on my friends. This is one of those books.

Your Happy Guy

Woohoo, someone else sucked in!

Title:
Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex

Author:
Mary Roach

Previous publications:

• Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers
• Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife

Abstract
This is an examination of the scientific examination of sex. We learn a lot about sex and sexual behaviour and the history of sex, but mainly we learn about the nerds who strapped on goggles and gloves and clipboards to record how the good bits fit together.

Some of them reduced sex to subject numbers and data points. Some of them took photographs. And some entered the fourth dimension, notably the author and her husband, having sex for research purposes under the gaze of an ultrasound wand manipulated by a gent with spikey hair.

This book is every Weird Science nightmare. There’s a French princess who had her clitoris surgically transplanted into an optimum position for maximum stimulation. There are sex machines with chains and pumps and speed controllers and a fan club who build their own devices. (I’d give a lot to get their wives drunk and talkative.) There’s Dr Alfred Kinsey filming 300 paid male volunteers to masturbate on film so that he can measure the ejaculation distance. Most slopped, a few made it a foot, the record was just over eight feet. Mrs Kinsey’s comments on cleaning the carpet the next day are not recorded.

It is the wry eye of Mary Roach that makes this book. Her description of an unfortunate encounter is a good example:

…the Houston man was taken away, on his back in an ambulance, with a large water tank from a public commode stuck on his penis. “The patient had attempted intercourse with the water-tank hole,” reports B H Bayer, MD, in one of those rare, shining moments when urology approaches high comedy.

I think the author gets far too much fun out of all the statistics, sex on camera, Rube Goldberg measuring devices and coyly-worded requests for research funding. If the situation is absurd enough on its own, Roach will improve it with a well-chosen word or two.

The chapter titles give a teasing notion of the contents:

1. The Sausage, the Porcupine, and the Agreeable Mrs. G.
2. Can a Woman Find Happiness with a Machine?
3. The Princess and Her Pea
4. Does Orgasm Boost Fertility, and What Do Pigs Know About It?

Honest, this is about science, but it is also screamingly funny. Mary Roach has a sense of humour that made her first book about dead bodies an hilarious best-seller. I emphasise the warning given above. Be very careful where you read this book.

For the record, I found the chapter about pigs to be the funniest. I was gasping for breath half way through as assembly-line artificial insemination was described.

The training video includes a shot of a handsome, suntanned Dane lying on a sow, his chest pressed to her back. With one hand, he reaches down beneath her to rub her mammaries and squeeze her teats. A close-up highlights a gold wedding ring, as though to reassure the viewer that nothing untoward is going to happen between these two.

The most valuable chapter? Right at the end. The secret to amazing sex is to have it with someone of your own gender. Someone who knows what you like, because they have the same equipment. Someone who isn’t going to pound your clitoris into submission, or be too soft with your penis. Someone who will take their sweet time when required, and beat a faster drum at the right moment. Alternatively, talk to your partner. Tell them what you like, when you like it. Find out what they like. And, though Mary Roach doesn’t say it, the message is implicit on every page. Make them laugh. Make them love you.

Mary Roach has written three books now. If she ever publishes a fourth, I am going to be like those crowds of children beating down the bookstore doors for the latest Harry Potter. I am going to be first in line. And I am not taking the bus home.

Narrative
I bought this in Compass Books at San Francisco International Airport. On special (hardback) for $6.98. A few days later I was in a laundromat with Grl in Fort Worth, watching our underwear spin around together. I was reading Bonk and she was reading Tuesdays with Morrie and the tears were just pouring down her face as she struggled through the final few poignant chapters. Emotional genius that I am, I was lost in the insanely funny sex book, reading out choice paragraphs to Grl, who seemed strangely unamused.

A few days later, Grl and I flew back in, and I took her straight to Compass Books – highly recommended for books that are a sight better than your average airport sex thriller – where we discovered that the hardback specials had vanished but paperbacks were available. I bought two. This is another one of those books that you force on friends, saying, “You gotta read this!”

I gave one copy to Grl, on the spot.

–Guy Sez