A blogger was curious if all men have a fantasy island, where the only thoughts are of food and sex? She was referring to my first post on the philosophical question of Ginger or Mary Ann?
I mentioned the F5 gene of most men, which are :
- Fixing things
- Fooling around, which leads to
Yes, there you have it, the only gene needed in the life cycle of the single-celled organism known as man.
Now this female blogger, who operates the blog site Free UR Closet, and who only thinks about clothing and wine, stated her husband and son replaced the 3rd trait above with “Freakin Selective Hearing.” Usually this is a trait that comes much later in life when the last three traits above disappear.
However, the purpose of this post is to philosophically and rationally discuss what if Mary Ann took the drink, and I was left with Ginger the Movie Star, yet food and sex could not be entertained. Now for you movie buffs, a CPA stranded on a desert island with a movie star would be reminiscent of the 1974 movie Swept Away, with Giancarlo Giannini and Mariangela Melato, without the passion of course. See, some of us Okies are internationally cultured! So let me give you an idea of how the scene would work.
Ginger would want to talk, and talk, and talk. My job is only one thing – to listen, and listen, and listen. She’d want to talk about her roles, and then about her hair, and slip in and out of fashions with the 16 suitcases where she freed HER closet and managed to salvage, with the age-old question, “Do I look fat in this?” A question no man should answer even with ten thousand men at his back, it is folly.
She’d want me to exfoliate her feet and bunions from pointy toed stilettos, massage her back with coconut oil, and have me place sea cucumbers over her eyes. She’d want to redecorate the remains of the Minnow on a daily basis, “Can you please move the clam over there, it clashes with the beached whale? Is that carcass chartreuse? Oh no, that certainly won’t do.” This is when the “Freakin Selective Hearing” trait begins its mutation and overtakes the “Fixing Things” trait.
I would be nothing more than a man-slave to my Fraulein movie princess prison guard. If she happened to get chilled from the trade winds, she’d want to snuggle, like a body heat seeking vampire, and suck the warmth right out of me. If it rained, I’d be the human umbrella. At this point, even being a raging heterosexual male, sex is definitely NOT on my mind, escape from Alcatraz IS. I don’t care if I drown or become shark bait. I would keep hoping and praying for a basketball named Wilson to show up. Yet, Wilson could hear Ginger from far out at sea and changed his castaway path.
Then there would be emotional outbursts and I’d rush, in all my protective male macho manner just to see if she was in danger, only to find she snagged her Oscar de La Renta evening gown. Somebody please shoot me! Later that evening, as she rummages around her suitcases she discovers she packed a movie projector, a solar powered generator, and all her movie collections (starring her of course), a microwave and popcorn. Oh, and a box of chocolates and a case of wine, which she will not share. By this time, Hari Kari is completely occupying my mind, if only a samurai sword or ginsu knife would wash ashore.
Now we humans, yes, even single-celled men included, need food and shelter. I can cut out the passion, but not the food. Luckily after two weeks with Ginger, my DNA would mutate based on my environmental surroundings, and my F5 gene would now become the F3 gene:
- Female Free
You see I was able to create a life raft of Ginger’s suitcases and float to a little known Hawaiian island. This was the last episode of Hari Kari Island- Escape From Ginger. There on my new fantasy island I took on a new identity, so that Ginger could never find me. I comped Mary Ann a lifetime membership. Grrrrr… Woof Woof! (Sorry she brings the ape wolfman out of me every time!)
See what happens when you ask an insanely absurd, well dressed in a kilt, haggis hurling, Scottish hero wannabe, CPA and author a question? Bring on the questions. I’m up for any and all challenges. Book your trip soon with Big Bollocks Bobby Travel Agency.
Oh, I almost forgot, the sing along:
A tale of a fateful trip
That started from this tropic port
Aboard this tiny ship.
The skipper stylish and demure.
Six passengers set sail that day
For a three hour tour, OMG, a three hour tour.
The crew and guest abandoned the tiny ship,
If not for the courage of the insane CPA
The Minnow would be lost, the Minnow would be lost.
The ship set ground on the shore of a fashionable isle
With man slave – Eduardo,
No Skipper or Mariangela Melato,
No millionaire and his wife (thank god),
Just a crazed conceited movie star,
No professor, or Mary Ann (whimper),
Here on Hari Kari Isle.