Well, it’s about that time again — time to dip into the bottomless trove of sophomoric queries and asshattery known as the Mailbag. I figure you heathens could use a break from all the high school fratstar nonsense, so we’re switching it up a bit this week. The topic of discussion will be a music playlist, one sexual in nature, but more particularly, what to listen to while engaging in sexual relations.
Here’s the reader email I received:
I have a question for you. If you were to throw a playlist together to play during taking a girl to Pound Town, what would you put on it? My girlfriend asked me to make one and I haven’t the slightest fucking clue what to put on it. As far as I’ve gotten is Born In The USA, and I put that shit on repeat.
Quick note here: This dude sent me this email 100% devoid of any punctuation whatsoever. None. What an asshole, right? Probably the same kind of person who nonchalantly enters an elevator before giving its current occupants a chance to exit the thing. Excuse us, dickhead. What a monster. I added capitalization and the bare minimum of punctuation just to make the damn thing readable. No punctuation…what kind of an animal does that?
Still, I’ll help this poor bastard out.
Born in the USA is a solid start, I suppose, but get that next track queued up from the jump because when the layers start coming off and it’s time to start swapping some spit, The Boss can only take you so far into your journey. Think of a baseball walk-up song. It sets the tone for the at-bat, but before it’s time to dig into the batter’s box, grip your lumber, and see what kind of heat the pitcher has for you, you need to shut ‘er down. It’s a great “pre-game” anthem really, because if the US of A and classic rock songs about her can’t get the blood flowing to your business parts, you’re likely a full-on terrorist. Or an ungrateful asshole.
Might I suggest an exaggerated shirt toss across the room during your walk-up song, coinciding with some well-timed hip thrusts set to the beat? Great tone-setter. She’ll be nekkid by the end of this routine if you play your hand right.
Now, it’s time to get down to business. For your next song, please avoid the classic sensual stuff like Barry White, Al Green or Marvin Gaye. Let’s Get It On? Really? You think she didn’t see that one coming, bro? It’s cheesy, it’s played out, and she won’t be impressed. She might even subconsciously flip her switch to “Let’s get this shit over with already” mode. You don’t want that.
Just go with a hot, current joint that you can both jam to, and obviously bone to. Hey, sex is fun. Keep it fun. Play a tune that’s fun. That way, if the sex isn’t that great — even though it always is at your age, well, for you, maybe not for her — at least you have a fly song playing. Boom. You’re both happy.
Here’s my suggestion:
Selena is so hot right now. That songs brings the thunder. It’s just dripping in sex, too.
Finally, the term “playlist” is a bit presumptuous, isn’t it? Doesn’t “list” kind of imply there will be a multitude of songs to come, like maybe at least five? An average song lasts, what, about four and a half minutes? We’re talking about twenty-two and some change minutes of ongoing music here. Let’s not pretend that you’re the marathoner type to fill all those minutes with the sex. Song number two, the one after your walk-up, I’m just saying to make it count. It’s likely going to double as your sexual initiator and your closer, your coup de grâce. Check out that Selena song — four minutes and 50 seconds. Perfect. You make it past that and you’re playing with house money.
Unless, of course, you’re battling the effects of whiskey wiener. If you are, then you’ll likely not even possess the adequate motor skills to start playing your sex playlist from the get-go.