*SNIFF* Hey Baby…

DNA_orbit_animated_static_thumbI’m sitting here slack-jawed with my coffee cup paused mid-air. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I’m waiting for some smartass comment to be made. My brain is scrabbling frantically for a reply (this is one of those times when I know it is better to be prepared!) and I’m coming up with nada, zip, zilch… a big fat blank. I, my friends, am in trouble. 

Finally caught up on some of the other busyness stuff that has been straddling my plate lately I decided to take a rare gander at the TV. Watching TV isn’t my favorite past-time (it’s usually a waste of time) but it was on the Discovery Science channel and sometimes that channel will pique my interest. I heard the words “sex” and “genetics”– grabbed a cup of coffee and of course plopped my big butt down.

Let me get this out-of-the-way now… I’m a gene freak. I love the way everything mixes together along some “strand” and you end up with Ta-Da! Put a Red Pea Plant with a White Pea Plant to get a Pink Pea Plant…and every once in a while a striped one that has people scratching their heads, saying “huh?”. It’s fascinating and one of those few things that keep me enthralled for hours.  There is actually a rule in our house that the G-word cannot be discussed. At least not when certain people are around.

He was watching for the sex.

Turns out that people are getting more stupid lazy weird sophisticated when trying to choose a mate/ sex partner. SPIT has now entered the dating pool. That’s right. Get the saliva going (no loogies please!) so they can dip in a Q-tip and get a few genetic markers set. Oh, and opposites DO bring more bang for your buck… literally and figuratively. That’s the whole premise behind the Spit-ins. I. Shit. You. Not. You will have better sex if you are a genetic opposite of your partner. Just sex now, if you want more than great sex then you are going to have to look elsewhere.  Does he have a job, is he emotionally available…will he take out the trash? We just haven’t been able to map that out yet. Who cares though, great sex– yay!

Then they started to talk about SMELL.

I have issues with smells. Quite a few issues. As a matter of fact, when my brain started to connect the dots between spit and genes and sex and smells I really wasn’t feeling too well. Then the whole point of the show segment came on… Your genetic match is supposed to smell good to you.


The kind of good that makes you want to smolder and whisper naughty things in a stranger’s ear and then sneak out the back door in the wee hours of the morning without telling them your name. The kind that makes your head whip around and your nostrils flare while you try to figure out just where the hell it came from.

I knew that sensation; that– that kind of smell. The mere memory of it had me panicking now!

Thank God he left the room.

” You might want to take a shower.”

I would have been so dead.


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