What Love Is Page #7

In fact, if she walked

through that door now,

the best thing I could do

is throw her sorry ass on out.

I mean, this is

still my house, right?

I don't care

how much I love her.

She can come,

she can get her sh*t,

and she can get the f*** out!

I-I never wanna see Sara again.

I never wanna see another woman.

Masturbation

the key to the universe be.

And if I never see

another woman again,

it'll be too damn soon

in this motherf***er!

I'll handle this.

Is this where

the Valentine's thing is?

You gonna invite us in,

or what?

Did you see the looks

on those guys' faces

when we walked in?

I felt like a steak dinner

in a sea of piranha.

Laura,

it was not that bad.

At least these guys are cute.

More than I can say for the

last party Rachel took us to.

What, 20 hot girls

and two fat, ugly, gross guys?

What's wrong with that?

What you get

when you work in porn.

I don't work

in the porn industry.

- I just do their hair.

- Whatever!

What's that guy Sal

doing here?

Isn't he some gangster?

A wannabe gangster.

A wannabe? Katherine,

the man carries a gun.

For show, Laura.

He flashes it around.

He'd never use it.

How would you know?

Katherine used to

go out with him.

Is this true?

No, it is not true. Never.

I slept with him once,

but I never went out with him.

And?

He was a perfect gentleman.

Terrible lover but a gentleman.

Terrible lover?

What do you mean?

He thinks he's such a stud.

Exactly.

He doth protest too much.

He didn't know how

to do it right?

Are you kidding?

He did not know how at all.

I couldn't get this man

to go down on me

- if we were on the Titanic.

- Oh!

Sh*t. Why?

I don't know.

I think he said he had

some sort of germ thing.

A germ thing?

Like what? A phobia?

Like, a germ phobia?

I hate when guys say that.

It makes me feel

so unsanitary.

Because you are unsanitary.

Oh, go f*** yourselves.

But what about the penis, Kat?

I mean, was the penis bad, too?

Yeah, what's with the dick?

Katherine says he's got a cock

the size of Florida.

Is this true?

No, it is not true. It...

It's what? It's what?

Like the cape of good hope?

Like Cape Canaveral?

No.

Like the cape

that superman used to wear?

Have you ever seen

a Sunday paper rolled up?

Yes. No! Double that.

How bad could that be?

Unless the guy came in seconds.

Oh, my god. Quick draw McGraw's

are the worst.

Actually, he was the exact

opposite. He took forever.

I just got so frustrated

riding that monster so long

without any foreplay

that I went home.

You went home?

Went home.

What, in an ambulance?

No, in my car.

But I did have

such incredible blue balls

from the whole experience

that I had to call up

one of my zerves

to finish the job.

A "zerves"? What's a zerves?

Reserves, Amy,

as in the army reserves.

Always have a couple zerves

in your stable

to call any time

to rectify such a situation.

The kind of guys that

fix your car, help you move,

come over in the middle

of the night

when you hear scary noises.

Don't you have any reserves?

No.

You mean to tell me

there is nobody you can call

when you need to get over

a breakup?

I can call my mom.

That's really not the same,

now, is it?

Oh, honey, you are missing out.

You gotta try it sometime.

You use 'em like painkillers.

They tell you all the things

that you wanna hear,

like how great you are,

how beautiful you are...

what a f***ing idiot

your boyfriend is.

And you get to be

totally selfish in bed.

Because that's what

they're for.

They know they'll

never be Mr. right.

They're just happy

with being Mr. right-now!

It sure beats crying

in your pillow.

Like my mother always says,

the best way

to get over someone

is to get underneath

someone else.

Amen, sister.

I just can't come from a cock

the size of Florida.

I need a tongue

the size of Florida, too.

You need gene Simmons in there.

Exactly.

Enough! Jesus Christ,

I've heard enough.

That's disgusting,

you two are disgusting.

I... I can't believe I'm hearing

this. What happened to you?

You sound like men, I mean,

with the blue balls and zerves.

I mean, whatever happened

to closeness and intimacy?

Since when did you two become

so desensitized?

Oh, please, Laura,

you have to have sex

at least once every millennium

before you can lecture us.

Rachel, I might be

the only woman left on earth

who can lecture you

on the subject.

I-I mean, listen to yourselves.

Where are your priorities?

Instead of getting some

random guy to rub out an orgasm

and repair your fridge,

don't you want somebody

who will always be there

for you in the middle

of the night

to protect you

from those scary noises?

Are you f***ing delusional?

You sound like a hallmark card.

You can't argue with me.

You just used a word

that does not exist.

Really? And what word is that?

You used the word "always. "

"Always" is the key to heartbreak. Why?

Because we expect

that he will always be there.

We expect that we will

always be loved,

no matter what we do

or what we look like.

That is clearly not

the case, now, is it?

Because we get fat.

We get old.

We get traded in

for younger models every day.

So the simple truth is

the only "always"

is that everything changes.

In my experience, men's whims

are the most changeable of all.

So "no," I guess,

is the answer to your question.

No, I do not want some guy

to tell me

that he is always

gonna be there

to protect me

from the scary noises,

'cause then I'm gonna know

he's a liar.

I can protect myself, thank you.

With what, your vibrator?

Are you gonna massage 'em

to death?

I don't need no vibrator.

Oh, I know.

You've got the entire population

of Uruguay on speed dial,

just in case the Boston Celtics

don't work out.

You know, you are

such a f***ing hypocrite, Laura.

You're one of those girls

who sucks a million c*cks

but only slept with three guys,

so think you're some Saint.

You're not.

Blowj*bs are exactly

the same thing as having sex.

In fact, to some men,

probably worse.

That is so not true. Blowj*bs

are different than having sex.

It's not even the same thing.

Oh, it's not, is it?

It's not the same thing

to take

some strange man's dick out

of his pants

when you don't know where

it's been or if he's showered,

put it in your mouth,

suck on it

and then swallow his come

when you've only known the guy

for, like, a few hours?

You're right.

Not the same thing.

Oh, come on, Rachel,

a couple hours?

Oh, what is it, then, precious?

A-a few days at the very most?

I mean,

when you add it all up,

what is the total amount of time

you need to spend with a guy

before you're down on your knees

getting a throat culture?

What, six hours

on the first date,

four on the next?

Ooh, the time the two of you

had some "coffee"?

Why are you picking

on me?

I thought we were friends.

We are friends.

But I also know

you're full of sh*t,

and I wouldn't be

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