My evil Scrabulous Nemesis M. on Facebook told me a great joke the other night.

An egg and a chicken are lying in bed. The egg’s all balled up on her side while the chicken’s propped up with a grin on his beak, having a smoke. The egg fumes and mutters, “Well, I guess that answers that age-old question.”

So, on behalf of all women:

We understand that you may sometimes need to finish first. Why, we can be downright chores at times when it comes to the proverbial screaming O.

But, please, if you must finish first, and it’s apparent we want more, we would like to extend to you an open invitation to use manual (ie: fingers, hand) techniques, oral mastery, and possibly even toys to deliver us the same orgasmic bliss we’ve willingly been your vehicle toward. For god’s sake, don’t stop for a cigarette. We should be a priority. Get to work. And, hey, patience, grasshopper. We’ll get there when we get there… and you’ll take it, and like it.

(However, if we’re indifferent, please, just take your orgasm and run, will you? Consider it on the house and let us have that bath we’re thinking about. Have fun using your psychic powers. You can do it. Or… you could ask. We’ll only bite if we know you like it.)

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming. Sorry about that. Come back tomorrow.