John Sciacca Writes...
Random Thoughts (Blog)
Random Thoughts (Blog)
Random Thoughts (Blog)
|Posted on June 23, 2010 at 6:18 PM|
If you’ve been following my posts, you’ll know that I set a goal of reading the Bible from cover to cover this year. I try and carve out about 30 minutes each evening after Lauryn goes to bed where I can read 4-5 pages (and possibly find a needle-in-a-haystack misspelling.) And I’ve been diligently making steady but slow progress. (Those micro-thin pages and 8 point print make the task even more daunting.) Last night I neared the 900 page mark and finished the book The Song of Solomon.
Now, if you think the Bible is a boring, outdated book of rules, lists, geneologies and one Israelite tragedy after another, you have not read the S o S. This book is just one lyrical, romantic poem, an ode to love and lust and longing of a young shepherd boy and his damn-baby-you-so-hot maiden, filled with what must have been epic pick-up lines from the ancient days. Now, maybe it was the Gordon Beers in me, but it just stood out how differently men woo women today compared to back in Solomon’s time. (Though, as any less-than-beautiful rock star can tell you, writing a song for your woman obviously still works. Just ask Seal (Heidi Klum), Ric Ocasek (Paulina Porizkova), Marilyn Manson (Evan Rachel Wood), or Chris Robinson – the Black Crowe, not my far less ugly, way more deadly cousin – (Kate Hudson), Mick Jagger's lips and *numerous* hotties. The list can go on...)
So, the next time you fellas are out at club looking to chat up some fresh hotness, try some of these lines on for size. (All from S o S, chapter: verse)
4:1 Look! You are beautiful. Your hair is like a drove of goats that have hopped down from the mountainous region of Gilead.
Seriously, what woman wouldn’t love to have her hair compared to a drove of goats? Dirty, matted, walking around all day in the dust, goat hair. Sassy! I mean, this guy knows how to break some ice with smooth.
4:2 Your teeth are like a drove of freshly shorn [ewes] that have gone up from the washing, all of which are bearing twins, with none among them having lost its young ones
If saying that her hair was like droves didn’t get her, then following up with her teeth being like freshly shorn and washed ewes is certain to do it. Though be careful when using this in Britain, cause, you know, big book of British Smiles. And I *think* the second half implies that none of her teeth have been knocked or rotted out, which is pretty important when wooing a classy lady.
4:3 Like a segment of pomegranate are your temples behind your veil.
Pow! You just stunned her into silence. This is where you hand her some kind of tall, overly alcohol’d girly drink, possibly a pomegranate infused martini with a frozen watermelon slice or something.
4:4 Your neck is like the tower of David…
“What?! My neck is like some dude named David?”
Yes. No. Wait. “Your neck is like the tower of David, built in courses of stone, upon which are hung a thousand shields, all the circular shields of the mighty men”
If this is really the case, you should tread lightly, cause any woman with a neck like that could *seriously* whip your ass if you get out of line. Not 100 shield, but one thousand. And not just girly shield. These are Spartan war shields so they seriously mean business. So, tread lightly. Especially with the next bit of knowledge you’re about to lay on her.
4:5 Your two breasts are like two young ones, the twins of a female gazelle, that are feeding among the lilies
Now, I actually tried this out on Dana last night, as I suavely moved my hand in for a tender and loving grope, and I was firmly rebuffed and informed that “the store was closed.” So, I wish you better luck.
4:13 Your skin is a paradise of pomegranates.
OK. Have you actually SEEN a pomegranate lately? Here is a picture of one:
So, basically, your skin is bumpy and red and blotchy and is ready to burst open spewing staining red pustule juice at the slightest touch. You sir, are that rare breed of charmer!
7:1 The curvings of your thighs are like ornaments, the work of an artisan’s hands.
Trust me when I tell you that there is nothing that women LOVE more than when you talk about things hanging off their thighs like ornaments. It is like the sweet smell of spikenard in Lebanon to them.
7:2 Your navel roll is a round bowl. Let not the mixed wine be lacking [from it]. Your belly is a heap of wheat, fenced about with lilies.
Wait! There IS something they love more! It is describing their navel roll! And clearly our boy is looking to get down with some kind of wine belly shot action here. Also, women respect honesty; brutal, piercing, yes-you-are-that-fat honesty such as using terms like “heap” when describing their stomach.
7:4 Your nose is like the tower of Leb´a•non, which is looking out toward Damascus.
I think this is what Jennifer Grey’s boyfriend said to her. Though, to be fair, her nose was like a tower, though only pointing towards Damascus if you traveled in kind of a jaggedly directly.
7:7,8 This stature of yours does resemble a palm tree, and your breasts, date clusters. I have said, ‘I shall go up on the palm tree, that I may take hold of its fruit stalks of dates.’ And, please, may your breasts become like clusters of the vine
Translation: Baby, you tall. You so tall I want to climb you. I want to climb you and then shake dem double dates! And I like the look of your vintage.
After saying all of this, you can expect one of three reactions. 1) She walks away, with or without throwing a drink in your face. 2) SACK-TAP! or 3) She's down and you got a bona fide FREAK on your hands. You’ll know she’s down with the freakness if she comes back to you with an answer like our goat haired, ivory necked, twin gazelled, pomegranate faced maiden:
8:1 O that you were like a brother of mine, sucking the breasts of my mother!
Oh, it's on. It is definitely ON!