My last post seemed to have struck a chord with many of my delightful readers. If you get the chance, read what some people had to say about this post. But, after all of my bitching, I broke my semi-serious “no texting” rule last night. Oh well, we all slip up sometimes.

Speaking of last night, I was tired. I was feeling somewhat petulant. I wanted to watch the rest of the TV shows I Tivo’d last week. Alas, the booty call came in … I was going to resist, but then I realized that if I didn’t give in, that my next opportunity would be next Saturday at the earliest. Oh hell no. So dear Ryan came over last night about 10:30 … and ladies, let me tell you something: If you are like me, single and 30-something, find yourself a younger man. Do it now.

Here’s all you need to know: Three times. In an hour.

That doesn’t even begin to take into account his youthful exuberance and enthusiasm when it comes to Miss Monique (no pun intended).

[Male readers, do not be offended; I know you were once young studs, but age takes its toll on all of us. You have your charms too. ; ) ]

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned Ryan’s age, but he’s 5 years younger than me. At first I was totally weirded out about this, well, mainly because he was only 25 when we met. But now he’s pushing 27 so I feel less pervy. (It also helps that he has way more gray hair than I do.) He expressed concern today that he’d be able to still “keep up” once he officially hit his late 20s. Ha. Ha. Ha. The man is a machine.

Of course everything I’ve said is true. But I’m also saying it in hopes of stroking his … ego … and gettin’ some more on Wednesday night. Wink.

P.S. Last night almost made up for the mandal incident. Almost.