Bust a Mooooove - Duct Tape

The other night I was esconced in an elite social club/corner bar when tragedy struck. A friend's jeans, perhaps stretched beyond suggested torque limits, split wide open across the back pocket. They were her favorite pair, but years of stress and strain had taken a toll, and now a fair slab of skin was peeking out. A weaker woman would have run for the door in tears, but not my friend.

She held her ground, and her pants, for she had... duct tape.

I was so proud. Whipping out her Hello Kitty Leatherman, she deftly sliced a piece of tape off and bridged the gap. "No, no!" cried another friend. "You must put the strips vertically. It's much more slimming." She was right, of course, and we quickly corrected the fashion faux pas. Bursting with pride, but not enough to burst my britches, I offered to add a few pieces to my own Wranglers as a fashion statement of solidarity.

Functional yet attractive, the shiny stuff worked in a country/grunge sort of way. It gave guys an easy opening line with my friend, i.e. "What the heck is that on yer pants?" After which they'd spend entire songs discussing some of the more unique uses of the miracle adhesive. Instead of going home early and alone, she got to stay out and twirl her reflective keester about the dance floor a while longer.

There are certain sounds that, when heard, automatically create a mood- cats love can openers, my dog loves the music of the passing ice cream truck, for some - the croonings of Barry White....I was wondering if, in the right setting, the sound of ripping duct tape could be inspiring.

Next week I expect to walk in and see a whole bunch of copycat, duct-taped girlies eagerly following our lead. Hipper than a mullet and with more staying power, this duct tape thing has legs. I'm working on a line of jewelry, starting with bangle bracelets and a matching studded choker. My friend attempted a mini skirt which, although a painful failure, led her to discover that the stuff is a very effective body wax.

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You See a Dear, I See 'Bimbo'

You know how perfectly decent guys will pretend to fall for bimbos just to make you jealous? It's a cruel but common game. Usually the anger of the moment precludes a woman from taking selective action, but I'm going to give you a few tips on how to effectively counteract this snide move and still minimize your parole time.

Since guys are single-celled orgasms (sick), they can't keep up with our plethora of multi-tasking activities. They know that and try to downplay this fact. Hell, they downplay every disadvantage they have. They just have to do it one disadvantage at a time.

Let's say, for example, you're at a club, and you know he's interested in you because he keeps peeking over at you and drooling. This goes on for several beers minutes. Finally, he walks toward you and instead of doing something sane, like saying 'hi,' he asks a bimbo to dance, right in front of you.

You have several options, most of which will end with you incarcerated or at least with a broken nail. Let's look at some of the kinder ones. You can:

• stare daggers at him
  
• find a loser to dance with like he did
  
• carve your name in his leather seat (not necessarily the one in his car)


• test her fake bimbtits as flotation devices in the men's room toilet
  

These are all moves he expects of you. As Queens of the Multitask, we must be better than bitter.

First of all - disappear. Move. Go hide a weapon in the bathroom again, whatever. Just get scarce and don't be where he expects you to be. He'll be looking for your reaction. By the time he can't find you, you'll have your scope focused and a bullet in the chamber.

Part of the key to the 'disappear' move is the amount of time involved. Between alcohol and bimbos, guys don't remember much, so you can't stay away too long.

Keep in mind that when the song ends, he won't have another move lined up. Guys can't think that far ahead. You can. Let him hang like a limp booger on the dance floor a while. It's a humbling experience that will help him appreciate you more later.

If you've got a prop-daddy handy, use him. Walk back to your spot with a fresh drink, giggling with your prop-daddy. By this time your target will have forgotten what he was up to and will just see you with alcohol and another guy.

At this point, give your target the long, slow, sloe-eye. Yes, the Bambi what-were-you-thinking-by-wasting-time-with-a-flotation-device-trollop look. Then, back to prop-daddy. By now you have his attention and his family jewels in your side pocket.

You can take it from here - whatever your style is - pouty, cute/angry, etc. Now, go git 'im, girls!

This has been your most recent Dating Data Update. Thanks for reading this far.