Trailer Park Sex Party Saturday Night Essentials #2: Just for the Guys: "Performance Nutrition" Tucking it in for tucking in Last updated 07/05

Sexercises | Performance Nutrition | Duct Tape | Bedside First Aid | Lube | Smoking in Bed

Before we get into this topic, one thing needs to be straightened out.

The first involves age. Let's be honest with ourselves...as Trailer M. Parkers, we know our place in the grand scheme of things. Life consists of stages: childhood, juvenile delinquency, adulthood, seniority, and if we're not lucky enough to die from that first stroke, institutionalization. It's been this way since our ancestors first traded the chains of feudal peasantry for the chains of sharecropping. And now we're told that we're not bearing our burdens long enough.

"Ohhh Henry!": Discreet performance nutrition is easy to find for the educated shopper. If it has nuts and wafer, it's rocket fuel for the bedroom.

That's right...you probably suspected it, and now I'll confirm it: Viagra is a secret government plot to convince us that we need to keep behaving like our infuriating teenaged kids long after nature, cholesterol and the NFL playoffs have stolen our interest in sex. It was invented by a commie scientist as a way to get more of us to die young and in the saddle so we don't live long enough to collect old-age dividends and spend our kids' money...money the government wants for taxes. Damn right.

Goddammit, it just ain't natural to keep wanting sex at an age when we wouldn't screw any chick as old as we are, and we shouldn't put up with being expected to...not from society and not from our wives, even if they do outweigh us after about age fifty or our doctors are pushing free dick-drug samples on us.

When Big Dick decides to retire, I say give him a round of applause and a barbecue party for his years of faithful service, then put the "old fucker" out to pasture and let him grow old in peace. I know you young lads may not see it this way, but I see a lot of bald heads out there nodding in agreement, so respect your elders, shut the fuck up, and get us another beer while you're so full of piss and vinegar.

So guys, I hope I'm clear on this...the next time you take any flak on this point of respect, you tell whoever's raggin' you that you heard it from the Doc: nobody tells us who or when to fuck, or what or how much to eat. There. It's been said.

But as we all know, there are times when you really want to, and it just ain't happening below the belt. Nine times out of ten, it's exhaustion. (The tenth time, it's humiliation, and there ain't no point in even trying to do anything about that.) And no Trailer M. Parker worth his welfare check should ever have to turn down some no-risk frisk with that neighbor's niece who never remembers who was in her pants the night before, or a chance to relive prom night when the wife's hot'n'horny after watching a chick flick or winning at bingo. Not while this great country is still the home of the Mars Bar and the Twinkie. As for Viagra, well, maybe city folk ain't ashamed of taking it, but out here, we figure there ought to be an ordinance requiring you to turn it in when you leave the town limits. The only drug we need out here for raising the cane is alcohol.

Booze will always get the blood up for fightin', but fuckin's a different matter. You need real energy for that, not the distilled stuff. If you're reasonably normal, you already know that your primary sources of "bedroom boom" are ribs, brats, franks and bananas...dishes from the phallic food group. But there's never any harm in having a little extra in reserve, especially if your woman is one of the finicky types who's not happy unless you last at least ten minutes.

But you know, once again, good old common sense is exactly what the Doctor orders when he needs that extra staying power...and it's the wise camper who remembers that a few extra minutes of fun for her is a few extra minutes for him, too, provided that he's used enough freezing gel.

...Doc's prescription advice... Eat hearty Hardly edible ...Baby Ruths ...Polish pickles & bananas ...foot-long franks & back ribs ...Mars bars ...chocolate anything ...Almond Joys ...baby dills & stringbeans ...Hormel hash & white bread ...Nerds, Geeks & Goofballs ...Twinkies

There's no point in rehashing the importance of a high-performance diet for today's NASCAR man. Who among us hasn't fallen into a stuporous daze during a late caution in a 500-lap short-track race, or realized to his horror that he can't remember who snapped Manning's leg during an overtime second-down blitz at playoff time? We've all made similar mistakes in the past, and performance is never more important than when it comes to entertaining Uncle Woody.

But don't fall for modern myth and mysticism! Forget what you've read in Prevention or overheard on a nightly news medical segment. Limp, flavorless goop like yogurt, tofu and granola bars might cut it for your metrosexual foreman, but it ain't gonna put a blip on the radar of a body accustomed to shotgunning Colt 45 or a nervous system that only peaks at the sound of a distant police siren or the smell of hot Kingsford.

Fortunately, the multinational food giants have cleverly disguised the performance nutrition needed by today's modern male in a convenient, portable, and most of all, discreet fashion: the nutbar.

Every product shown in the image above contains full performance nutrition: nuts for protein, sugar for energy, chocolate for caffeine, and fat to buffer the rush.

Makin' Canadian bacon Us Canadians have the game sussed. Our candy makers know how to label their bars for real men. Oh Henry! was the "Friday night favorite"(1) for many years until a competing company came out with even better performance food: the Mr. Big bar...seven long inches of sweet-between-the-sheets. These bars scare a lot of visiting Americans who see it surrounded by nuts and instantly associate it with a particularly hard and painful morning donation, but us Canucks don't seem to have the same need for laxatives...up here, we see it as more like those condoms "rippled for her pleasure"...and yours, of course. So if you're up here fishing, hunting or smuggling pot during a long labor dispute, be sure to sample the local magic. How'd we get so good at this? Well, you know how cold it gets here when football season starts, and we need something other than hockey to fill those other six nights of the week.

And if you're not good on reading labels, here's a handy rule of thumb: any candy bar named for someone you admired as a kid (e.g. Baby Ruth) or something you wish you had (e.g. $100,000 Bar) is sure-fire nutritional dynamite for the bedroom. Pay attention to the visible clues in the foods you eat...avoid the short, wide bars in favor of the long, thick ones. Mounds? Too short and sweet. Almond Joys? Good for the bust; which means they're a bust for your goods.

Be careful of the come-on advertising by some manufacturers though. Ding Dongs/King Don's are just too damn short to be of much use. Twinkies...well, they're always handy to have around the house and car for nutritional emergencies, but seriously...all that cream needs to be cleaned up! And us guys of the white persuasion especially need all the chocolate in our veins that we can get when it comes to competing with our darker neighbors for the favors of the local hotties. (That's in our veins, by the way, not on the skin...do not think you're going to .

By the way, if you thought this was a lot of reading for not much information, you're right...it was. Ol' Doc was testing you at the same time. You see, if you're irritable and sleepy by this point, that's your clue that you're the kind of guy who needs to keep performance food onhand for erotic emergencies. If you're just pissed off that you had to read this far for this little, then you can consider yourself fit and ready for action, and take your nutritional needs a little less seriously.

1. Yeah, you read that right..."Friday night favorite". See, here in Canada we've got it over the Americans in another area: a second traditional night out every week. See, socialized medicine gives us Canadian trailer trash an advantage over our American counterparts through the vastly reduced stress and worry over medical costs when we inevitably fall victim to nasty cancers, clogged arteries, type 2 diabetes and other normal conditions of aging. And that extra security and stress reduction allows the average Canadian to get dangerously drunk on both Friday and Saturday nights and still be recovered enough to show up for work on time on Monday. And you wonder why so many of the '60s draft-dodgers never came back home.... >>Back>>