My compliments to the chef.

I assume my regular diet is healthy ‘cuz I’ve eaten a lot of fruits in my life. Not to mention all the protein from meat I’ve digested. Fish, not so much. As for veggies, I think those are best left for lesbians to enjoy. Which should provide you with a mental picture that’ll keep you off that foodstuff for life. The Department of Agriculture and the Department of Health and Human Services, who jointly issue the Dietary Guidelines for Americans, may disagree. But then they can never agree on just which foods are healthy for you and which are not anyway. They update the guidelines every five years, and every five years switch between eggs being good for you or eggs being the food from hell. Considering the average ballooning waistline of my fellow countrymen, they’d do better providing guidance on whether a triple scoop of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey or Haagen Dazs’ Caramel Cone is best way for you to go.

Fortunately moms never paid much attention to the Dietary Guidelines for Americans. Sure, she occasionally tried to convince us kids that lima beans were food, but then she has always had a wicked sense of humor. More importantly, she never trained our taste buds to consider mac and cheese a dietary delight. I’ve had friends who would get hard at the suggestion there was mac and cheese headed toward their dinner plate. Note I said ‘had’. That stuff is gross. I assume if you were banal enough to order mac and cheese at a 5-star Italian restaurant it might be palatable. But the stuff that comes in a box that Americans love . . . you’d be better off eating the box. It’s no surprise mac and cheese was invented by the English.

But they say you are what you eat, not to mention that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Which should clue you in to fact that when it comes to sex, food matters. And yup, that smells like science to me. Unless someone is burning a pot of mac and cheese on the stove top again.

Ooops. You said hot cheese, not hot Chee. My bad.

Perhaps it was the study from last September that found that men with prodigious bellies lasted an average of five minutes longer in the sack than their thinner brethren that convinced the folks from the dating app Skout to survey their membership’s dining habits. What they discovered was that among the 4,600 participants, those who rated grilled cheese sandwiches as a yummy treat also rated sex as the thing that got their juices flowing. 73% said not only do they love grilled cheese, but that they make love at least six times per month. Only 27% of those who gave the sandwiches a thumbs down had that active of a sex life. So now we know if it’s through a man’s stomach that you’re attempting to land him, he’ll put out more often if you serve him grilled cheese sandwiches.

Skout didn’t explain why they focused on that particular food to set the bar for the gooey treat and gooey sex parallel, but did discover that those who liked the snack are better all-around. Aficionados also love to travel and consider themselves to be adventurous, and are 20% more likely to be charitable than those who aren’t that big on being served grilled cheese. Regardless of how it is served.

But among the sex fiends who gobble grilled cheese sandwiches on a regular basis, it’s all about dairy. 41% say it’s gotta be American (although a true cheese over would debate the right to call that stuff cheese) while a mere 2% feel brie needs to be made any more gooey. And white bread seems the preferred way to go with 51% weighing in in favor of enriched flour. With crust. 28% of the picky, sexless eaters who don’t care for grilled cheese are anti-crust people too, while only 10% of grilled cheese lovers would bother cutting it off. But then cheese and the uncircumcised have a long history together.

But don’t forget that grilling your meat is popular too.

Grilled cheese fans seem to live a ‘the more the merrier life’ too. 60% like melting more than one type of cheese between their bread and almost half like to throw in a few more goodies, like pesto and tomato. Which probably bodes well for you if you are into sex toys. So if you inherited a box of Velveeta from your grandmother, don’t throw it away, throw it between two slices of bread on the grill and land yourself a hottie who’s into an active sex life.

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Now that’s hot.

I read a lot of fiction, primarily books loosely defined as thrillers. So cops, private eyes, and agents of shadowy quasi-governmental organizations are the norm. And because it’s one of the things the USA is #1 in, that means lots of serial killers. That’s a good thing. ‘Cuz it’s helps teach you those things not to do to keep cops, private eyes, and agents of shadowy quasi-governmental organizations from pegging you as one. Not to mention your neighbors will generally think higher of you too.

You’d think The 7 Warning Signs That You Might Be A Serial Killer would include handy tips like not keeping body parts in your refrigerator. But then as obvious as that may seem, considering some of the things I’ve seen in the refrigerators of tricks I’ve done, the occasional dismembered arm or foot doesn’t really rate high on the I Think I’m About To Heave scale. So a better tip would be why not to buy cheap brands of plastic wrap. Or the importance of labeling the meats you’ve stuffed into your freezer. But instead writers of cop, private eye, and agents of shadowy quasi-governmental organizations books go with the tried and trued, the rather skimpy list of serial killer traits that FBI profilers tend to rely on. Like bed wetting.

No problemo. Bed wetting is neither a habit nor a fetish of mine. Spending the night sleeping in a bed soaked in urine is no more enticing than spending a weekend at Disneyland. Although I do remember once as a small child sneaking into my brother’s bedroom and peeing on his bed. It’s probably a good thing he’s never been suspected of being a serial killer. Yet.

Evidently serial killers hone their craft by practicing on small animals too. That’d be torturing, maiming, and killing them. Not peeing on them. That one is a bit more problematic. I’m not a member of PETA, but do agree maiming and torturing small animals is wrong. As a concept. But my neighbor has one of those tiny, cat-like, yappy dogs and both it and I know that one day it’ll have yapped once too much and my career as a serial killer will be off to a satisfying start.

Whenever a serial killer is caught and the media interviews his neighbors they always say what a quiet and polite man he was. That they would never have suspected his favorite hobby relied on a high body count. I can’t imagine any of my neighbors – even those who don’t own a tiny, yappy dog – ever referring to me as polite. Neighbors are highly overrated. And I wish more of mine had their house foreclosed on during the recent real estate bubble bust. I know. That sounds heartless. But between losing the home you never should have been qualified to purchase in the first place and becoming the victim of a serial killer, I think I’ve taken the high road. Besides, that’s a few less souls to be telling the media what a quiet and polite man I appeared to be. As though they never noticed my Free Charlie Manson bumper sticker.

My biggest concern on the 7 Warning Signs That You Might Be A Serial Killer list, however, is pyromania. I mean who in their right mind doesn’t love fire? Even the Christian god lit up a bush to celebrate coming up with his 10 Commandments. Spending the weekend in the great outdoors sucks without a good camp fire. And no one spends every summer weekend barbecuing just because they have a love affair with hot dogs. If it wasn’t for fire we wouldn’t have firemen. And that would mean a hell of a lot less masturbatory fantasies. Not to mention stroking it while you watch hot, live firemen attempt to put out your neighbor’s burning house. The one who used to have that tiny, yappy, cat-like dog.

One of the side benefits of fire is hot firemen.

I don’t think playing with fire should be considered a sign that you might be a serial killer. In fact, I think playing with fire should be taught in kindergarten instead of finger painting. It’s a much more useful skill set. And could help the bed wetters dry out their sheets. I think the anti-pyromaniac crowd might even be a bit homophobic. ‘Cuz you know how much some of ya like to flame. Playing with fire is fun. Everyone enjoys the pastime. Even bar boys in Bangkok love the part of the show they get to walk out naked with burning candles in their hands. And what could be more hotter than that?

Okay, so maybe there is a small difference between starting fires and playing with fire, but baby steps, ya know? And thanks to the YouTube video 10 Fun Things You Can Do To Play With Fire, you too may soon have a new hobby. That may not help me stay under the radar of cops, private eyes, and agents of shadowy quasi-governmental organizations ferreting out potential serial killers, but there’s safety in numbers and once you’ve seen how much fun burning a ping pong ball can be, you won’t just push past that annoying barker trying to get you upstairs for a Sexy Show! in Patpong ever again. Enjoy.

(Click on the photo for the video . . . you know ya want to.)

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