Well, have you ever made love high?

Y'know, I go for years and years of my life without being told I look like someone famous (and no, Princess Fergie doesn't count) and then in the space of a couple of months get some strange comparisons dropped on me.

At my bro's engagement fiesta this past weekend, I was chatting with one of my dad's friend's who I had never met before. She's all dolled up in a teal velour (okay, maybe it was crushed velvet, I'll give her the benefit of the doubt) blazer and accosts me as if we've known each other for years when in fact I don't know her name. After telling me that she really digs Amsterdam because "I like the hash bars. Do you go to the hash bars? I really like the hash bars" she then drops "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Diane Keaton?"

WTF? I mean are we talking Diane Keaton who now does wrinkle commercials or Diane Keaton in Annie Hall or Diane Keaton in [insert recent movie title] when she is a divorcee? Not sure any of these options are ideal.

hmmmmmmmmmm (part 2)

I'm here to learn, everybody, not to make out with you. Go on with the chlorophyll!

Some of you have already heard this story. But in my typical style of loving to tell the same stories over and over and over and over and over again, suck it up and read on.

So I got all jazzed up about this potential trans-Atlantic lover coming over for a business trip. I've heard from a number of my friends who have slept and/or hooked up with married men (yes, there are more than one of you and no, being separated does count as being divorced) that an aged man is like fine wine. Well, this guy was like old cheese. Or old feet. Or old feet covered in old cheese.

Okay, that's a bit unfair -- he didn't smell or chew with his mouth open or anything. To (attempt) to be objective, he was a nice guy, not bad looking, intelligent (though a bad conversationalist), etc. I mean, a girl could do worse...

...until it got to the kiss...

This guy could win the "Worst Kisser in the World" contest by a landslide. And I don't mean the "try to do it really badly on purpose" contest or "get your friends to give you five dollars to make out with your other friend" contest. I mean just straight.up.FOUT (fout = wrong in Dutch. I have to learn it, so you do too). Since my first peck at age 10, it ain't never been this bad.

Imagine trying to press an elevator button with your tounge over and over and over and over and (putting etc. here wouldn't cut it...) over and to infinity and beyond! and over again. Now imagine someone pressing that elevator button in your mouth, where there isn't one. It was just....sad. I tried to slow it down, tilt the head, guide him in the right direction, but no! Where is the elevator?!? Keep pressing that button!

(I can see a woman divorcing a man over this -- but why the hell did she wait until after they had two kids? oooooh harsh)

Anyway, he didn't get past second base. He tried to kiss me again on Valentine's day and for the first time in my life I said "I'm not really in the mood" (okay, maybe not the first time, but close). I've never been so turned off in my life. I mean, guys do things that don't "work" but they usually find the plumbing before you know if they can handle the tools.

So, instead of "Obama or Hillary" or "Great Taste or Less Filling" the poll of the week is "Do you tell a man he is not a horribly rancid kisser if a) you never want to see him again and b) he's over 40?" I've heard "hell no, what's the point" but also that I'd "being doing him a favor."

Kick him when he's down or change his life forever? You be the judge.