Fantasy Friday

Cue dream sequence.

It's near sunset. I'm sitting on a purple and white striped beach chair, 20 feet from the shoreline of Waikiki Beach. The beach is deserted. I'm staring out at the water, sipping on a really strong cocktail that barely tastes like it contains any alcohol. I dig my toes into the sand, until the cold, damp particles envelope both my feet. In the distance I see a figure walking towards me. I can't really tell who it is. He looks strangely familiar, wearing a fedora-type hat, sunglasses, a brown t-shirt, and plaid shorts; he's carrying a brown messenger bag and a green beach chair. When he gets about 30 feet from my chair, I gasp. It's Jason Mraz!

"H..hi," I stammer tipsily.

He comes closer and extends his hand.

"I'm Jason," he says softly.

We shake hands.

"Mel, my name is Melanie. Well, Mel. Or whatever you want." I nervously giggle.

"Cool," he says. "Okay if I set up my beach chair right here, Mel?" he points to the space right next to mine.

"Sure!!!! I mean suuuurrreeee," I say.

He sets down his messenger bag, unfolds his chair, and casually sits down. He removes his fedora and places it on top of his messenger bag. He turns towards me, removes his sunglasses, and says, "So whatcha drinking?"

"Oh, it's nothing," I say. "Just 'Sex on the Beach'."

You idiot, Melanie!! That's awkward!! Why would you say that!! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

But Jason just looks over at me and says, "That's cool. My favorite drink is actually 'Sex on the Beach' with you."

I spit out my mouthful of 'Sex' in a hose-like spray.

"W..what did you just say?" I stammer.

"You heard me," Jason says.

And he grabs my hand and...

SNORE!

THEN I WAKE UP.

Oh, shit!!!!! I just dozed off at my desk again. Damn it, Melanie! Damn it! I hope no one noticed.

I look around just to make sure and luck for me everyone seems to be immersed in their work. Close one. Phew!

That's what I get for sleeping on the job. TGIF.

P-O-R-N spells lawsuit! Very good, kids!

This story almost makes me wish I worked in a school. I would KILL to watch Camp Rock during my work day. Even better than Camp Rock? PORN. Seriously though, if these pre-schoolers' parents are this upset by a 45-second showing of hardcore, explicit porn, then they should really get over it. According to my own scientific research, exposure to pornography before the age of 8 might just be the best form of contraception. Imagine... you're a poor, little naive 5-year old, sitting with your classmates, all excited to watch your favorite Disney movie. No job to worry about. No bad economy to keep you awake at night wondering if you'll have a penny to your name the next day. Not a care in the world. Now imagine a hardcore sex scene appearing on the screen in place of Demi Lovato and The Jonas Brothers. Confused? YES. Scared? INDEEDY. Intrigued? NO.

My scientific findings show that it takes just 45-seconds of porn-watching to scar a pre-schooler for life. So, really, their parents should be happy. They needn't worry about giving the dreaded "birds and the bees" talk, and furthermore teenage pregnancy and sexual experimentation at a young age aren't even options. Sex will be feared by these kids throughout childhood, adolescence, college, adulthood, and senior citizenry. They just may never want to have sex. EVER. Parents, rejoice!

But this theory now begs the question: how to prevent drug/substance abuse? My answer: take the 5-year-olds on a trip to an AA-meeting. If that doesn't do the trick, then take them to a rehab center during detox. That should do it.