That’s what I’ve been told, time and again. Looking at most beer ads, I’m pretty sure all I have to do is drink that one brand of beer, and I will be surrounded by bikini-clad females, much younger, and heck of lot more attractive than I am. That’s the message, isn’t it?
Some of the scholarship on Pepys Diary includes mentioning that he was a womanizer. I’ve only read one year so far, and I didn’t see a lot of sex in it so far, but if sex in the city sells, then I should make something up here, to add a little sizzle to the content.
Alas, I live the life of monk, sequestered and cloistered as it were. In a cave. While I was on my way to my temp job, I listened to yet another friend commenting about exploits over the weekend, “Man, I am SO tired today. But happy, you know?”
Sure. Be happy for the lucky person. Persons. Whatever. Reminds me of a conversation the other afternoon, “C’mon Kramer, when’s the last time you had sex?”
“With another person, you mean?”
So I’m not sure that sex sells.
