Jeffrey Lant Valentines Day Ebook

A Collection of Valentines Articles to Warm Your Heart and Celebrate Love
By Dr. Jeffrey Lant, CEO Worldprofit, Inc. Edited with Comments by James Holmes
2012 James Holmes All Rights Reserved by Permission of Dr. Jeffery Lant http://AskJamesHolmes.com
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The publisher has made every effort to be as accurate and complete as possible in this report, notwithstanding the fact that he does not warrant or represent at any time that the contents within are accurate due to the rapidly changing nature of the Internet. While all attempts have been made to verify information in this report, the publisher accepts no responsibility for errors, omissions or contrary interpretation of the subject matter within. Any perceived slights of specific persons, peoples or organizations are unintentional. This book is a collection of Articles originally published by Dr. Jeffrey Lant. In practical advice books like this there is no guarantee of results, traffic or income. Readers are cautioned to rely on their own judgment about their individual circumstances and abilities to act accordingly. This book is not intended to be used as a source of legal, business, accounting or financial advice. All readers are encouraged to seek services of competent professionals in the legal, business, accounting and financial fields. Want to Start Driving Traffic Using Dr. Lants System Today?
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Table of Contents
Disclaimer Who is Dr. Jeffrey Lant? Who is James Holmes? Article 01: Flower Power. You never need a special reason to use it. Now will do just fine Article 02: No valentines today? What did you do to deserve them? Two penguins have some advice for you... and so do I! Article 03: On the subject of candles, why women buy them, why men don't... and why, having read this article, you'll stock up. Article 04: The personal ad you'd love to post... but don't have the guts! Article 05: 'Don't change a hair for me. Not if you care for me'. Your Extreme Valentine, 2012. Addendum: How to Access More Articles from Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Who is Dr. Jeffrey Lant

The Academic Dr. Jeffrey Lant graduated Summa Cum Laude from the University of California, Santa Barbara (UCSB). During his studies at UCSB he spent his junior year at the University of St. Andrews, Scotland, where he won the University Prize in Philosophy and became the first American ever elected to the Students Representative Council. While at UCSB Dr. Lant became the University's first-ever Woodrow Wilson Fellow and became a highly recruited candidate for a doctoral fellowships by over 60 graduate schools across the Country. He chose Harvard where he distinguished himself as a Harvard Traveling Fellow and Harvard Teaching Fellow en route to winning a Master's Award for special achievement. Dr. Lant graduated from Harvard University earning both a Master's Degree and Ph.D. Upon graduation from Harvard, Dr. Lant earned the Certificate of Advanced Graduate Studies in Higher Education Administration at Northeastern University his third post-graduate degree. Never satisfied with quietly getting by, Dr. Lant became the first student to cite his own published work in footnotes to his class papers. The Author Dr. Lant has published 18 books and published thousands of articles on the topics of home based business, Internet marketing, and entrepreneurship. Many of Dr. Lant's titles can be found in traditional printed form through Amazon and all of the titles are available for instant download via PDF e-book. Internet Business Pioneer It all started with a telephone call from George Kosch and Sandy Hunter, two Edmonton Alberta, Canada based entrepreneurs with a vision to turn the sales process on it's head by leveraging a new technology in a very powerful way. They persuaded Dr. Lant who at the time was busy publishing syndicated articles, writing journals, and hosting a syndicated radio program on the Business Radio Network. Needless to say, his plate was full! Through persuasion Kosch and Hunter convinced Dr. Lant to travel to Edmonton and presented over a kitchen table the business model that has become his life's work.
Collector of Antiquities Dr. Lant's successes have afforded him the unique opportunity to fully indulge his passion for collecting antiquities and European art. An avid collector since boyhood, these days you'll find Dr. Lant's office strewn with the catalogs of major auction houses worldwide - Christie's and Sotheby's among them. Dr. Lant's collection is highly regarded and attracts visitors from around the world and from many stations in life. Counted among Dr. Lant's guest have been eminent scholars and new collectors at the dawn of assembling their own collections.
Who is James Holmes

My Mission is: To sow increase into the lives of others by co-creating wealth and abundance. I grew up believing in the power of creative thought and self determination and I use these attributes to live an extraordinary life. I gained an understanding of how to translate this knowledge and way of living to other people. I am here to help you. So how am I creating my success? Ive studied mindset, I have sought out programs that had exceptional value and came from credible sources and I have benefit from the guidance of amazing mentors. In the beginning I measured correct activities, not results. I believed that if I consistently completed the correct activities my results would be exceptional and they have been. I knew that I would have to pay my dues and develop a track record of success and also prove to myself that I could teach another person how to do what I did to become successful to teach a system that duplicates. I had no idea how confusing online marketing could be, perhaps you have found this to be true as well. So many offers, promises, systems and gurus all promising to provide the perfect program guaranteed to make you millions by just signing up or buying their system. I was not easily seduced and can say that I have gotten value from 99% of the information products and training that I have acquired. I just as easily could have spent thousands of dollars buying into the hype yet I am not judgmental of those who have. I fortunately decided to take a business approach and made educated decisions. I am not saying that I havent taken a few dead-end turns and fallen into empty rabbit holes because I have, it is almost unavoidable. There is a formula to success on the internet and I assure you that it is more science than art. The internet is the great equalizer because it matters far more where you are going not where you have been and people care a lot more about whether or not
you deliver value for them and conduct yourself with integrity. I love that!
Flower Power. You never need a special reason to use it. Now will do just fine by Dr. Jeffrey Lant I was at the grocery store the other day; you know, the Shaw's Market at Porter Square, Cambridge. My helper Aime Joseph was doing his usual efficient job of unloading the groceries onto the conveyor belt. I was holding the flowers so they wouldn't get crushed. A tired looking lady was at the cash register, a woman of a certain age. She never looked up to catch my eye... but when ringing up the flowers she brightened: "Someone's lucky today," she said. And without missing a beat, I said: "You!", whereupon I took a fervent red rose from the bouquet and handed it to a now very surprised, rather embarrassed but thoroughly delighted, lady. Flower power, a little bit of greenery, some blazing color, had done their work again. And they'll work as well for you, too. Flower from the Latin flos, from the Old French flour According to my ever useful dictionary, flower means "A blooming plant." It also means, and this I think more useful, "The brightest, finest, choicest part, period, or specimen of
anything." Thus, when you give flowers, you give "the brightest, finest." Flowers transform the mundane into the memorable. We are living through difficult times. Millions are afflicted by a punk economy, by unemployment and job loss, by house foreclosures and pension shrinkage. If Charles Dickens were alive today, he could well and truly write, "These are the worst of times". He might well leave off the other half of his famous line, "These are the best of times" as being manifestly untrue. However, we, the living, must do the best we can... and flowers undeniably help. Don't wait for a "special" occasion.... call up the power of flowers now. I am always amused when on such holidays as Valentine's Day and Christmas, I see the long lines at the florist shoppes. It is good, of course, that they are there; any time is a time that flowers brighten. But these are folks (usually male) who haven't quite glimpsed the power of the unexpected flower. They are there,in that never-ending line, to cover themselves, lest they be accused of forgetfulness and insensitivity! Rather, I applaud the person who, quite clear on flower power, delivers flowers today simply because it is today, no further reason being needed. I think I saw such a person the other day walking down Massachusetts Avenue in my neighborhood. A bit sheepish, he held his bouquet high, a mixture of pride and embarrassment. I was hopeful there was no other reason for those flowers except to say "because you're you..." Know thy florists Personally,I make it a point to know and try all the florists in my neighborhood. I like to see their very different approaches to the business of brightening the world. At Trader Joe's, for instance, there is always an eye-catching variety which in the Trader Joe's tradition is limited... but always good value. It is a pity they are rather inconveniently located for my visits. Tommy at the Montrose Spa added flowers to his convenience store line about a year or so ago. They are not his priority and as such he lets them sit too long, petals and leaves falling off, woebegone and in need of caring homes quickly. But Tommy waits too long to bring the price down and so there are always moribund flowers in the corner, sad, their powers diminishing by the moment. There are two florists in Harvard Square, both conveniently located. However, I don't patronize them unless it's an emergency. The folks at Brattle Street Florist always seem too rushed to help. I like to have a good look-see... and always appreciate the considered opinion of the proprietor. I also like to know when the roses came in, to be sure I am getting
them at their prime. I'm a stickler for freshness. John at Petali, handy in Forbes Plaza, tells me what I need to know, but he never quite focuses and though he waves to me on days when he bicycles past my house, I sense he is distracted, with other things on his mind. I feel like going into his shop and buying flowers for... him. He would smile then. Then there's the Central Square Florist. I never go there in person. (Central Square is another world for me. Denizens call it "between the brains", because Harvard is one subway stop further on and MIT is one subway stop before.) But I have ordered so regularly over time they sent me a special "frequent flower" card. I keep it in my wallet, but always forget to use it. However, they seem to know me when I call... and perhaps they give me a discount since I am a member of their club. I never ask. This brings us back to the flowers from Shaw's Market. They always seem a tad brash, bold. But they are handy, reasonably priced, and employees are happy, when I ask, to give me extra plant food, which I never hesitate to thank them for and take, sometimes forgetting to use it after all. Don't forget the card Flowers, despite the power of plant food, do die in due course, despite my many ministrations. But the card that accompanies them can last forever. After my mother died, I found amongst her many effects, a few of the cards she found meaningful, from long-ago events. Often she had taped or stapled one of the flowers from that bouquet to the card. In her copper-plate hand she annotated the back of the card... which touched and reminded me how much I missed her. Even long-dead flowers and their cards can do that. This is why I shall never stop buying flowers and giving them to the people I care about... or even total strangers who seem to need them and always smile at the gift.
No valentines today? What did you do to deserve them? Two penguins have some advice for you... and so do I! by Dr. Jeffrey Lant Today, February 14, 2011, is Valentine's Day. Millions of people worldwide will participate in this essential rite of love which usually involves men standing in lines for hours at expensive candy shops and florists with overburdened, surly help... then trekking their purchases home, very self- consciously, with more hope than expectation that She Who Must Be Obeyed will be, for an instant, completely satisfied with him. Millions of people today will get some such token of affection, usually of the hackneyed chocolate or red rose variety. But the sad fact is, millions more will get no affectionate
sentiment or token of any kind today... and they will deserve the slight. To deal with this irritating, indeed humiliating situation, of the "what a revolting development this is" variety, I have called upon two love birds of my acquaintance, Penguins Ishaboe and Spheniscus, inhabitants at the New England Aquarium, Boston, Massachusetts. They know a thing or two on the subject of love and affection... and being helpful critters they are happy to share what they know... Ishaboe (male) and Spheniscus (female) are a mating pair of African penguins, a bird so rare that it may well become extinct in the next 15 years. Concerned researchers at institutions worldwide are engaged in a strenuous effort to save the breed while they still can. This means taking an obsessive interest in their amatory habits. What they've learned is instructive... not just for the penguins but for their love-challenged human keepers as well. First of all, they like each other... and they're never afraid to show it, even with hundreds of prying eyes looking at them. Ol' Blue Eyes, crooning Sinatra, the chairman of the board, knew just how exciting Total Focus on your love interest can be: Are the stars out tonight? I don't know if it's cloudy or bright. 'Cause I only have eyes for you, dear. (Release date 1949). Or, if you prefer a more insistent beat, try this punchy line from the Miracles... I'm just a love machine... and I won't work for nobody but YOU! (Released 1975.) These smart penguins practice what they preach. Why just the other day, marooned together on their high-class desert island (scrubbed clean every single day), splashing care-free in the 150,000 gallons of Boston Harbor water, constantly filtered, they literally couldn't take their eyes off each other... and didn't. Even experienced researchers, used to penguin fidelity, found this total attention worthy of note. When was the last time, you gave your love interest your total, unqualified focus? Stumped? Can't remember? That's where your problems begin... and it doesn't matter how old you are, either. Why, in my Harvard Square neighborhood in Cambridge, Massachusetts the students at the World's Greatest University think nothing of holding hands with Love Interest #1, while furiously text messaging Love Interest #2. Thus they always have a back-up when their togetherness shreds, a thing they anticipate, expect, and plan for. And some dare call this love! So, Rule #1 to make this day special... don't just give a card with printed sentiments written for the poetically destitute. Don't merely plunk down a few bucks for a box of Fannie May or Whitman's quaint Sampler and think it's "good enough". As that wag Sir Percy Blakeney,
baronet, said in "The Scarlet Pimpernel" (published 1905) "There is nothing that is quite so bad as that which is good enough." Exactly. You selected your would-be Valentine for a reason. Recall that reason now... Then move out of the dull and dreary to the new, energized, alluring you, the fountainhead of dreams, seductions, shared pleasures. Instead of the unexciting red rose, lay down a trail of rose petals that lead to a pulsating, provocative......... YOU! Or do a Hansel and Gretel number (from the story by the Brothers Grimm published 1812). Lay down one tell-tale chocolate after another, until X marks the spot where your one and only finds.....YOU and nothing but you, exciting, uninhibited, memorable.... If you've let your relationship grow stale, shame on you when just a little such inventiveness is required to revivify and re-ignite. Our penguin pair knows this. When one is away for a moment, they tenderly call a la Jeanette McDonald. Upon returning, they bow to each other, polite, thrilled to be rejoined. To make clear their interest, they preen, they posture, they give food to demonstrate affection... they are assiduous, inventive, playful... and from their unceasing inventiveness comes a helluva good time; they enjoy seeing how they can top their own creative efforts and show the profound affection they so obviously feel for each other. Our penguin pair knows, too, that the secret of this day is the line from "My Funny Valentine" (from the musical "Babes in Arms," Rodgers and Hart, 1937.) Each day is Valentine's Day. Here the penguins excel. Today they will act towards each other, the way they act every day. They will neither note nor care that this is a day dedicated to the arts of love. Should someone say so, they would laugh, wondering why any creature, any place limit to a single day the fond sentiments and delights which are best given every day, in all places. They will then go back to their tried and true ways of love, oblivious to you and me. It is more than sad that such creatures are imperiled, the victims of over fishing and changes in ocean currents which remove the penguins from their foods. Catastrophe looms as their once vast numbers plummet. If these are, indeed, their last days (though human friends are helping), they mean to go out as they have lived these generations past, engrossed in each other, loving as if there was no tomorrow. And so should we all.
On the subject of candles, why women buy them, why men don't...
and why, having read this article, you'll stock up. By Dr. Jeffrey Lant Author's program note. It has long been my contention and pet belief that we denizens of Spaceship Earth, for all the formal education we've had, know next to nothing not just about our particular planet and our very own solar system... we know little or nothing (but think quite differently) about the hundreds of things that we see constantly, use frequently and have known about since conception. We may know the names of these things, all these things, but what we know beyond that is superficial, cursory... and more often than not, wrong. Being the Good Samaritan I am, I often write about common things that we think we know, but don't. Today this burgeoning tradition takes on another item known to all, known to none. It's the candle. For the incidental music for today's article, my friend Graham Lee said I couldn't do better than Elton John's "Candle in the Wind" (1973) Many others would concur with Graham's recommendation... but I do so without great enthusiasm. Elton's lyrics are too often glib and banal. As for his characterization of Marilyn Monroe, it is insipid, factually wrong and willfully misleading.. Otherwise, I like it as much as Graham. Still, he managed to garner a knighthood (the all important "k") for his additional too sweet lyrics about Diana, Princess of Wales, and if he's good enough for Her Majesty, he's good enough (just barely) for me. Find it in any search engine and play it as you read this article. I promise to illuminate this subject. Candles I have known (at least superficially). Like most middle class Americans I have had more than a nodding acquaintance with candles since birth. My birthday cakes were adorned with the requisite number. These were promptly blown out in the prescribed manner, after suffering through the annual rendering of "Happy Birthday," a sophomoric and irritating little ditty that accompanies you through life, your whole life, without surcease. If you have any sense at all, you come to detest it and all the well-meaning morons (let's be honest with each other) who sing it at the drop of a hat, at the top of their voice, no matter where you happen to be. Still, I have now in my possession a photograph from my third birthday in 1950. I was adorable. The candles look good, too. I next recall another jolly holiday, Christmas. In those days and in ours, candles were always a part of the exuberant decoration which always marked this season. As every decorator knows (and writers, too, of once-called "women's" magazines), candles are cheap (let's not mince words), and they do (so sayeth Martha Stewart and her ilk) spruce up and up market any home quickly, easily, and with instant effect. This is why fully 35% of candle sales are made for Christmas and the season. We want our homes to be festive... for pennies. It's an
admirable objective, and candles certainly help us achieve it. More candle recollections. If candles add their distinctive (and stylish) look to the holidays, they can in the right object turn a sow's ear into a silk purse. At least this was the case with Liberace. The man owed everything (except the love his doting mother lavished on her Lee) to a few candles, a pair of second-hand candelabra he found in a thrift store, and (again complete honesty is required by my professional canons) a quite mediocre rendering of any classical tune the audience knew, starting with "Bolero" and ending with -- "Bolero". More, and still more, memorable encounters with candles. Candles, you surely see now, play a significant role in my life specifically and my huge extended family, generally. Since this is undeniable, I hasten to tell you a confirmatory anecdote. It concerned my cousin Carolyn's eighth grade graduation from parochial school. My grand mother (a low church Episcopalian at her highest) was perforce invited to the event... and reluctantly attended. It was the days of mummery and Pius XII in the See of Rome and Grammie expected -- and got -- the worst. It happened as cousin Carolyn, always at her most deceptive in white (ask her poor hubbie),marched dutifully down the aisle holding a white (what else?) votive candle. Each of her now sanctified classmates did the same... When Grammie saw white clothed cousin so attired, never mind the candle, she blurted out, in church no less, "I need a drink." The Protestant side of the family retired to a Howard Johnson's restaurant (and bar) where Grammie ordered a grass hopper. It was the only time I ever saw her lose her cool, order a grass hopper (and perhaps a second) and utter sotto voce maledictions against The Eternal City. What percentage the offending candles had in creating this havoc, I cannot say, although I did enjoy the mayhem immensely. Utilitarian candles, a rare beauty. On one memorable day in the late 50's after a storm had pulverized the power grid, we were, the entire town, literally left in the dark. Candles rightly stand tall in such inconveniencing moments as this. And so it was with us. We had, good Midwesteners that we were, a cache of candles, some new, some used (including a disgraced overly green candle my mother had banished from the dining table). With its slender elegance it looked forlorn and out of place with the more work-a-day candles. The entire family set about the business of rendering "Fiat lux" in candlepower. The final result was both practical and eye-catching. We were proud of our handiwork and condescending about the fact our neighbors were nowhere near as well prepared as we were. Such an attitude, of course, is only possible because of the continuing usefulness of candles which is, after all, why I wrote this article in the first place. This usefulness has been used to lift the darkness for over 5,000 years now. Like so many things, it started in Rome (though
ancient Egypt has its partisans, too.) Still, Rome makes sense doesn't it? When you rule the largest empire in the world, there just aren't enough hours in the day. Rulers always need extra time. The candle, therefore, was needed yesterday and was popular at once, among Roman men who ruled the empire and their wives who ruled them. These wives, stern and practical, had the running of large establishments, and they relied on candles to keep them running day and night. Men relied on candles; women either made them... or, in due course, purchased them. And so began the romance of women and candles which continues to this very day. Most men, clueless, know nothing of this perennial alliance and mutual admiration society, and almost immediately err... and never ever get their equilibrium back. You may guess at the secret joy of women from such a situation. Which is why I offer all men this crucial admonition: whatever gift you give make sure it contains the necessary candles, tall, elegant, chic. Inform her ladyship that you, her obedient servant, will unpack, position, and light them, making sure the wick burns clean. ... And remember, as the old Chinese proverb says, "It is better to light just one little candle than to curse the darkness." If you do not follow my fraternal advice, you will most surely come to find its veracity, for without candles, you will surely come to know the lady's ability to cast you unto utter darkness, where you will need a candle... but will not have one. The Sisterhood will see to that.
The personal ad you'd love to post... but don't have the guts! by Dr. Jeffrey Lant Author's program note. As far as I can tell, everyone in the world has either run a personal ad (mostly online), is running one at this moment... or will run one before you can say "Jack Robinson." This means you. The question is not whether you will use personal ads... but whether they'll deliver the exact person you are seeking. Sadly, the vast majority of personal ads cannot deliver the bacon (or the cheese cake or the beef cake). They just don't provide enough detail and so are quite capable of delivering the Wrong Prospects. Witness the personal ad celebrated by Jimmy Buffet in the tune that made Pina Coladas mandatory Happy Hour fare as you bar hopped in pursuit of nirvana. Start by going to any search engine and listen to Buffet's anthem. It was written by Rupert Holmes and recorded in 1979. It's official title is "Escape" but hardly anyone knows that except Buffet who became with each insouciant word the recognized master of la dolce far niente... or, since most of you know no Eye-talian, the art of doing absolutely nothing... and doing it with the utmost style and grace, but without ever breaking a sweat. Buffet's tune makes it clear why personals as currently structured are silly, pointless, absolutely certain to deliver people you wouldn't be seen dead with. I mean, who doesn't like
getting caught in the rain (given the right person on your arm)... who doesn't hate yoga.... and is hardly into health foods... but insists on champagne? Add long walks on a beach, making love at midnight in the dunes of the cape, and holding hands at the cinema... and you've got the personal ad in all its banal insipidity. The wonder is not that they don't work for most people investing hope, time and money in them; the wonder is that they work for anyone at all... but then there are people (one hopes not you) who can be fully described with a few generic phrases. Avoid them like the plague. Time for rethinking the personal ad. In the olden days when personals appeared solely in newspapers and a few progressive publications like the alumni magazine for Harvard and such finicky folk as insisted on making known their preference for classical composers, stock brokers, and obscure holiday destinations; in those days one paid by the word and through the nose. Publishers counted on your desperation and longing to fill their coffers. Even the august Times of London cleaned up with such ads, universally called the agony column and always run on Page 1: "Should the fine lady in the blue mantle with yellow sleeves exiting the horse cars at Grosvenor Square Thursday last at 10:59 a.m. desire the acquaintance of a gentleman of means...", but you get the picture. When writing such ads, where each word raised the cost, it was necessary to cultivate the virtues of laconic language, short, sweet, clipped. The objective was always to meet the person ardently desired but spend pennies, not pounds. As a result, it was understandable, even excusable when advertisers slashed words; robust clarity at all times was desirable... but unaffordable. Enter the Internet. The very first thing I learned about the 'net was that it's boundless, inexhaustible, absolutely unlimited. Thus, it can hold, maintain and preserve infinity. The implications of this fact are fathomless, too... not least on the matter of creating personal ads that get you the longawaited apple of your eye. For now, since we have an infinity of space, there can be absolutely no excuse for writing and posting ads which are at once jejune, inadequate, and platitudinous in the extreme. They don't work, can never work, and must be abandoned, jettisoned, abjured, forsaken and, in case you miss the point, tossed into the dustbin of history at once. Now you can write this all-important ad without being hobbled and restricted. You are at last permitted, nay empowered and directed to write what must be written, the ad, the whole ad, and nothing but the ad. ... but this will take careful thought and planning, for it is doubtful ere now that even one personal advertiser has written the magnificent advertisement you are about to write, edit, post, and benefit from for a lifetime. As such the most scrupulous planning is de rigueur and
cannot be stinted. Two people, two parts. A good personal ad, which is to say an ad that accomplishes the desired objective, must be divided into two parts: half about who you are; half about what you desire in the person you wish to present the key to your (probably much bruised) heart. Brainstorming, musing, total honesty. Now, we all know that everyone, absolutely everyone lies in their personal ads. Excess pounds disappear as if by magic; years are thrust in the dresser drawer; educational degrees are now cited from institutions which scorned the pleasure of your company; financial net worth up, all manner of imperfections down; spouses of decades unmentioned, and the eight darling children, too. This is the nature of the beast... until now. Now you have the space to tell everything... and complete details on the extenuating circumstances. Yes, you were flunked out of Alma Mater, but it was most assuredly not your fault... and you insist upon making the full dossier available right here and now. You have the space; honesty is desirable; and your bringing up the subject at all proves what a gem you are. Thus instead of lying about the pounds you haven't lost, cite the reasons why. Honestly own up to the fact that your dietary habits are lax; list all your favorite foods... and the rate you consume them. List your last month's worth of dinner menus... and be scrupulous, entirely above board with everything you consumed, the kind of dishes on which you served the repast, and exactly what you did with the left-overs. You want your soon-to-be beloved to know you, fully, completely and so ardently; for after all, honesty is the bedrock of every meaningful relationship, don't you agree? The desired one. Once you have gathered all the critical intelligence about yourself, proceed at once to Part 2 of your ad, the absolutely crucial verbiage about the person to whom you wish to extend the glorious honor of sharing bed and board. Your complete and total focus is required. Again, brainstorm every desirable point, giving equal attention to what you do not want and cannot abide, and what you must have, a deal killer if not readily available, and in the desired quantity, too. Starting this list is easy, almost effortless. You either want a smoker... or you don't. You either can accept pets (even the most exotic)... or you can't. But make it a point to move beyond these obvious points. Consider such matters as the odor you desire in a mate; how many showers per day; the kind, frequency and intensity of bodily hygiene. Honesty is required, and so honesty there must be. And if the length of your ad grows long and weighty, what of it? What you are doing here impacts the curvature of two lives, so no apology is necessary.
Post at once, reap your reward. First, you are to be congratulated. You are a pioneer, a model of integrity and rectitude. Now it's time to reap the inevitable rewards which must come with posting. Mind, it may take a little time to get the single response this ad is meant to generate, for so thorough have you been that there can only be one response... from that extraordinary person daft enough to put up with you...and love you anyway. *** We invite you to post your comments to this article below.
'Don't change a hair for me. Not if you care for me'. Your Extreme Valentine, 2012. by Dr. Jeffrey Lant Author's program note. Men, it's time for your annual Valentine's Day update and reminder. For, as you will recall, Valentine's Day (along with her dog Pookie's birthday) is the most important event of her year. If you get it right (or as right as any man can get this minefield) you're in like Flynn for another year; your right to nookie safe and secure for another 365 glorious days. But... if you muff this, like you did last year and the year before that, you are in for another prolonged rough patch... and you know very well how rough that will be. To avoid this fate worse than death, extreme measures are required, and these extreme measures must be taken NOW! Men, have I got your full attention? Your Love Doctor is here for you... and OMG, you know you need it. The Facts. As we have discussed in prior years (and many of you have attended this critical training year after year, with, sad to say, spotty results) Valentine's Day is a world-wide conspiracy. It first began as the brainchild of a highly paid consultant who was charged with the task of selling a particularly noxious chocolate with a vile, disgusting taste... That didn't bother the consultant at all; it was the kind of challenge he lived for. Even the fact that the chocolatier couldn't pay him even a token amount up front didn't bother our fearless consultant one iota. He still inked a contract that said he'd receive 25% of the gross on all new business stimulated by his best ideas. In other words, he would (in the best macho consultant tradition) forgo certain (albeit lower) payment in return for a whopping share of the gross... and so long as he could move the obnoxious chocolate that everybody loathed.... he'd be a big winner. Frankly, the folks at the chocolate company (who pretty much loathed their product, too, and
banned it from the company candy machine) thought they'd made the perfect deal. After all, they got the consultant to work for them for free... and gave away revenues that didn't exist, would probably never exist. But before claiming a huge write-off and throwing the offending chocs in the garbage, they needed -- so their accountant said -- to gve it the Good Ol' College Try. His name was Valentine... Now our audacious consultant sat down to business, and because he was a very clever fellow, the ideas flowed fast and furious. Thus after just a few days, the consultant was ready to see the CEO and present the all-important concept. As it turned out not only was this meeting important for the chocolate company; it was a crucial turning point in the relations of all men with their women... it thereby launched a movement creating millions of jobs and huge corporate profits worldwide. The consultant's name was Valentinos Kariotes... known as Val... and he is the man who set the high standards for Valentine's Day... Yes, it is because of this single man and his insight that the conjugal rights and ecstasies of millions of hapless guys are put at risk every single friggin' year, to be reaffirmed by shelling out for chocolate, making ever richer the corporate smarty pants who dreamed up this baby. Down to business. Val, a straight talking, no nonsense, "let's stick to business" kind of guy got right to the point. To sell the chocs everyone acknowledged as disgusting, they'd have to have a bigger idea, something huge, clever, larger than life.... here Val paused.... because he knew that his next words would not only sell chocolates nobody could abide, but get men by the millions to line up in front of the company's packed stores to plunk down big bucks for a product they despised. Before stating what would become his abiding claim to fame, Val paused, looked around the room, the better to get their attention and keep the memory of this supreme moment forever green in his mind. Then he said "To sell chocolates you must get women to tell men that the purchase of these chocolates and the size of the box will be construed by every gal on earth as an indication of how ardently they are desired, loved, and wanted. In short, the target for their advertising campaign would not be the men who would actually buy the chocolates... but the women who would 'motivate' them to do so, in EVERY way at their command. Yes, in EVERY way." Val then unveiled his first ad, a classic soon destined for the Advertising Hall of Fame. It went like this:
"The size of the box", it read, "indicates how much he loves you." The image showed two boxes of chocolate. The five-pound box had a big black X through it. The 20-pound box was circled in a bright, bright red heart with exclamation point. Just awesome! Val's incredible idea at last gave women what they have always wanted, for thousands of years: a way to know, to measure, even weigh just how much their menfolk REALLY love them; the proof to be as easy to acquire as the simple purchase of chocolates. "Brilliant" was the least of it. In the lives of each of us, there come but a handful of moments of transcendence, moments of destiny, moments you are surpassingly glad to be alive. Our man Val knew such a moment this day... and as the astonished executives surged around him with their most ardent congratulations, they knew it, too. And immediately increased the box size and weight of their obnoxious product... for they knew at once that Val, their boy, was a genius. And so unanimously voted to create a day named for him -- St. Valentine's Day -- a day worth billions to love capitalists worldwide. It was the least they could do And so Val got filthy rich. Every time a woman got a two-pound box of chocs from her beloved, she knew that the donor was dead meat, a cheap, two-timin' low-life... who had then to go out and at once to get the 20 pound box... thereby passing the loved test... and making Val richer and richer still. Eureka! Of course, other companies watched this phenomenon, this cornucopia of riches with the closest conceivable attention; Val ensured they did, for in due course, he made sweet deals with florists, pastry companies, every diamond purveyor in the land... always with the same awesome results. Which is why you'll live today like a cat on a hot tin roof, spending good money you don't have to appease the little woman who controls your life. Be sure, too, to sing "My Funny Valentine" the right way, the feminist way, with the words about you, not her, for women have always hated this tune and its cock-eyed sentiment. Thus, "my looks are laughable, unphotographable...." because that's what she wants you to say, just after she's looked at the size of the box. (You'll find the inimitable "My Funny Valentine", released 1940, in any search engine; music by Richard Rodgers, lyrics by Lorenz Hart. I prefer the original version -- and the original words -- by Frank Sinatra.)
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