What I'm getting at is that we all like fancy cookbooks and gourmet magazines, with their glorious pictures of wonderful meals. I, for one, take a look at the picture and say to myself, "I can do that." I think we are all visually stimulated (yes, even you women), especially when it comes to food!
So why is it that we think we can make a masterpiece in the kitchen without practice? That's like going out to the basketball court and swishing your first three-point shot. It's like putting on your bra (or taking it off) for the very first time without a struggle. And, yes, it's like putting together that piece-of-shit table from Ikea on the first try.
Isn't there a saying: "Practice makes perfect?" But it goes even further: "Perfect practice makes perfect." The key is to practice things the right way before you do them, if you want to do them right! Although I must admit I have a big beef with this practice thing, at least when it comes to masturbation. The big beef (well, not so big) is with the way men are training themselves, practicing their whole lives. I think we're doing it all wrong! At least I am.
In order to not get caught, we masturbate in a hurry, i.e., achieve release as quickly as possible. Don't get me wrong: I'm all about being efficient, but I've spent my whole life training myself to, um, finish quickly. Now, fast-forward to the moment you want to make that great masterpiece with a special someone, and before you know it — you're done, and she's lying on her back thinking of ponies or whatever. Why? Because you just spent the better part of your life practicing how to finish quickly. We are all schmucks. If our moms really loved us, we'd have gone to masturbation lessons, not freaking French horn lessons.
So go ahead, masturbate for a loooong time! Take all day! Practice that recipe before trying it on your date. If you've been dating for a long time, it's cool to try something new, but if you're fresh off the dating boat, ready to show them the casa for the first time, then practice!
I once had a date with a gal I'd been with for a while. I decided to make a new dish from scratch — cilantro-and-chorizo ravioli. I decided to wing it. I had the shiny pasta contraption out and all the ingredients splayed on the counter. I had a few hours, so I started on some wine and sautéed the ingredients. Before I knew it, the bottle was empty and the shiny metal contraption was getting bigger. I thought it would be romantic for my date and I to make the pasta together.
My mistake was waiting for her to arrive; I should have been spending my time practicing the pasta. I was nervous, as usual, so I lubricated the central system with more vino. Needless to say, by the time she showed up I was very happy and very excited. I immediately started on the pasta.
Step 1: Place some flour in a pile like a little volcano.
Step 2: Crack an egg in the top of the volcano.
Step 3: Look at picture of finished pasta.
I stirred it all up and then pounded it out and then ran it through the shiny thing on the counter, over and over again. I swear I tried five different times, and I couldn't get that piece-of-shit machine to make pliable dough! It was either the machine, the damn wine, or, more likely, something I missed in the recipe. (I'm sure it was all the above).
My smiling date was a good sport — she called me stupid, she called me a drunk, and she laughed a lot. I felt terrible, not only because it was 9 p.m. and we hadn't eaten but because I couldn't deliver the goods (she was used to that). Lucky for her, a nearby restaurant was still open.
We can still laugh about the time I couldn't make pasta and we ended up going out to dinner. We still laugh about it, but we aren't in the same room laughing about it. I'm telling you that if you want to keep them around, then practice what you're doing before they come over. Whether it's in the bedroom or in the kitchen, you'd better be good in at least one of those rooms. Otherwise, you'll be alone again in the one room that you're used to practicing in: the bathroom.
