With no game this Sunday, I'm forced to write about something else. W..."/>

With no game this Sunday, I'm forced to write about something else. W..."/>

Having Sex Without A Lawsuit (For Big Ben)


With no game this Sunday, I’m forced to write about something else. What do guys think about when they’re not thinking about sports? Food, obviously. Since my recipe for Five Alarm Chili isn’t that interesting, I should probably pick something else. Then I remembered my posts on the Ben Roethlisberger lawsuit always seem popular.

Which makes sense what with the Male Triangle of Interest being made up of food, sports, and women. The only problem is there isn’t anything new to report on the Roethlisberger case. The judge denied a motion to dismiss but all that means is there is the barest minimum of evidence to warrant a hearing. So what else is there to say?

Then I read about an ESPN baseball commentator by the name of Steve Phillips. He was recently fired for having an affair with an underling half his age. We only know about it because the girl went batshit insane stalking him, texting him, writing letters to his wife where she casually mentions the shape of his penis, etc. About a month ago, David Letterman was involved in a similar scandal. Evidently, he was using his production staff as a personal brothel and when somebody found out, they wanted money in exchange for their silence. The Roethlisberger lawsuit is like a combination of those two. In his case, the woman, who was unstable to begin with, went totally crazy after he slept with her and when no satisfaction was to be had, she decided to sue him for money.

What is it with people nowadays? Can’t celebrities take advantage of their fame, wealth, and power for sexual gain? Clearly, something needs to be done. And since I don’t care about those other two assclowns, I just want to help Big Ben. I’m eminently qualified to give relationship advice, having seen Twilight in the theaters twice and read Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus cover-to-cover.

So here are five handy tips for Ben (or any other Steeler) when it comes to having sex without a lawsuit.

1) Go for a woman who doesn’t really like you. I don’t mean like she’s a Browns fan or something.  I mean, she’s not all that impressed by you or what you do.  I realize this sort of defeats the purpose because if you weren’t a rich famous athlete, you’d probably have a hard a time getting laid just like every other tall, goofy-looking doofus.  But this criteria is vitally important.  You don’t want a woman with the “I want to be the next Deanna Favre or Brenda Warner and already have the title of my book picked out.” look in her eyes.

2)  Go for the girl who has a career.  A real career, not desk clerk at a hotel.  Preferably who makes more than 50K a year.  Career women are usually pretty busy.  They don’t appreciate when you do things like waste her time or try to establish an emotional connection or talk.

3) She’s got a boyfriend or husband of her own.  I know this sounds terrible but if they already have somebody they’re less likely to want a relationship with you.  These women are more likely to keep the hook-up secret.  Unless of course you’re on their Cheat List (every couple has a list of one or two people that they are permitted to cheat with if ever given the chance.  Mine’s Alyssa Milano), then they can tell their bf/husband who’ll probably think it’s cool.  In any case, they’re just using you for sex.  As long as you don’t have any lame hang-ups like morals or a conscience, that’s a pretty sweet deal.

4) She’s the team bicycle.  As in “everybody gets a ride.”  As in, a groupie.  Obviously, the bonus here is she knows the rules, is okay with them, and has no interest in your life.  A few diseases, maybe, but no interest.  And she likely has a few uses for the Terrible Towel that would make Myron Cope scream “Double Yoi!”

5)  She’s sane.  Do you know why so many guys went to see movies like Fatal Attraction or Basic Instinct?  No, it wasn’t for a three second crotch shot.  It’s because crazy chicks are hot.  Given the choice between safe and sweet or off-the-rails, deep down most guys prefer the latter.

Unfortunately, the level of nuttiness seems proportional to the level of fame.  An ordinary schmuck like myself might date a crazy chick and end up with forty five cuss-filled messages on my voicemail and his car all keyed up.  A famous athlete dates one and they end up shot in the head.

Rest in peace, Steve McNair.

My point here is that even though we, as men, are wired to seek out danger and excitement, you must deny those impulses when it comes to women.  The level of risk doesn’t match the level of reward.  Unless of course a night of passion with the Cowgirl is worth $375,000 to you.

So there you go, Ben.  Print this out, pass it to your teammates, paste it up in the locker room even.  You got yourself in one fine mess, this will help to prevent it ever happening again.  Happy hunting, my man.