Oh, no, no, no. It's very simple: women starve themselves to trick men into MARRYING them. Then after marriage the women and the men stop trying so hard to be attractive, and they both get fat enough to have babies. Simple.
Nature always has a plan.
Actually, change can often be useful to purchase little items out of vending machines. I love change. In small quantities, of course.
Not when it comes to Jolie Kerr, babies, or margarita cupcakes. It's in the book. I looked it up.
Hey, buddy, you can marry her, but *I* get to have her babies. I asked first.
Jolie Kerr, I want to have your babies.
Journalists who cannot balance their checkbooks or calculate a dinner tip should not under any circumstances be allowed to use the term "billionaire."
That is all.
But I do appreciate your (ultimately futile) attempt to beat back the flood, Choire.
Other stabby-utensil names for consideration:
The Auger – Blunt, manly talk about sports, women, and backyard drilling
The Dibble – A nuturing environment for emotional cultivation
The Router Bit – Pointed banter about woodworking and medieval French poetry
The Tattoo Needle – Relentless navel-gazing on those topics which really get under your skin