Ken & Ariel

My question for Ken & Ariel: I am a 28 year old female with a good job, good education and, not so sound full of myself, good looks. I am an excellent listener, incredible cook, and have been told by many former boyfriends that my skills in the bedroom are beyond exceptional. But I cannot keep a guy interested, it seems, for more than a month. What, exactly, do men want?

Ken Says: Let me tell you a little story. There’s a girl I know who works as a bartender at one of the city’s coolest bars and whose dad is a bigwig within the New England Patriots organization. This girl is a total fucking smokeshow, all hips, lips and tits and miles of curly blonde hair. Goodness defined. But here’s the thing; she is absolutely incapable of keeping a guy around for more than a couple weeks, max. So if there are guys out there who don’t want to be with a girl who guarantees them the chance to feel up on a smoking hot body and drink free beer ‘til the wheels fall off and watch Pats games from a luxury suite… well, I’d say there’s something pretty fucking scary going on with this girl. That’s not to imply that you’ve got a major turn-off behind the great ass and personality, like a collection of porcelain clown dolls lining your bedroom or unshaven armpits or a penchant for threatening your men with a white-hot poker to the balls. But do you? Cause if so, there’s your problem.

Ariel Says:My dearest, you're spinning around so much trying to find that expiration date above your cute ass that you've lost sight of what's truly important: who's going to make you happy, not the other way around. But to answer your question, what do men want? Quite easy to answer: a hot stripper with an impressive collection of power tools and Cuban cigars, season tickets to the Sox, and a healthy obsession of all things NASCAR and poker. But I'm going to gently lead you back to yourself. Just like the fruitless search for the "sell-by" stamp, you're seeking (chasing?) the wrong guys and then beating yourself silly by taking their predictable post-haste exit personally. Believe it or not, there are guys out there who want a relationship. Otherwise, there'd be no dumb Kaye Jeweler ads. And with your impressive laundry list, (a Betty Crocker who can satisfy ALL her man's cravings) I'd say you're a keeper. But in order to get what YOU want, you need to start acting like the catch you truly are. Audition your potential suitors with the ruthlessness of Simon Cowell, and if they are not up to the challenge being your next American Boy Idol, shout "NEXT!"

Hey there. My boyfriend is an exceptionally good guy, but he won't stop fixating on my boobs. He's always pawing at them and trying to grab them and staring at them. I appreciate the attention, but there's obviously more to me. How do I get him to notice the booty or, god forbid, the brains that come with the whole package?

Ariel Says: Sigh...the grass is always greener, isn't it. For some of us who have been equipped with extra-sensitive erogenous zones in the mammary glands, your boyfriend sounds like a little slice of Heaven. But I digress. Your boyfriend is likely well aware of your other assets, but short of a couple of flares, detour signs and a police escort, he's simply going to keep going back to what he likes. You got yourself a boob man, and nothing's going to change that. So! Take that frustrated energy and refocus it on your own predilections: are you an ass girl? Do biceps make you weak in the knees? Objectifying him is probably the best revenge, and is infinitely more entertaining than whining as he does his "transistor radio" impression for the umpteenth time.

Ken Says: I have to agree with Ariel on this one. There are ass men, boob men, leg men, lip men, ankle men (watch out for those twisted fuckers) and abs men. It’s something we’re hard-wired with from birth, and there’s little you can do to change it… or us. As for brains? Hell, I got plenty of time for playing Scrabble or discussing Samuel Beckett when I’m fifty-six and incapable of maintaining wood for more than 36 seconds at a time. For now, hon, I really just wanna take you to dinner, buy you some flowers, and violate your ass in manners that would defy every component of the Geneva Convention.

Want fake advice? E-mail kenandariel@barstoolsports.com, or visit www.kenandariel.com.