If I perish by shark bite, I'm going to say I told you so with my dying breath.

I have what some have labeled an irrational fear of sharks. It's greater than a fear. It's flat-out terror. And I say irrational because I grew up (and currently live) in a landlocked state, have no plans to ever try surfing, don't resemble a seal, and when visiting a beach, I rarely go above knee-level when "swimming" in the ocean. I also have no intention of going on a cruise, because aside from group dinners with strangers not being my thing, I'd probably be that clumsy f*cker who trips and falls overboard while everyone is busy at the group dinner I deliberately avoided. Suffice to say that I probably won't encounter a shark in my lifetime. At least not one not contained within a tank at an aquarium. Another irrational fear of mine: very small things that have a LOT of detail crammed into their smallness. This includes seahorses. Good thing human babies come out unblemished with unnecessary detail, smooth and squishy, like Silly Putty with a face. Otherwise, my future mothering of youngsters would be difficult and I'd have to rely on the children's father to raise, and in general, look at them.

If this works, no need for a dress code at the wedding.

So Cosmo, always the leader in dating tips for the modern woman, recommends if you spot a hottie in say, a bookstore, that you remove one of your earrings (they even go so far as to say hide it in your purse, I guess because they want to make sure you get the idea that you're supposed to have lost the earring. Get it?) then go over near the handsome target and linger for awhile. When he notices you hovering, absentmindedly touch your ear and then look around at your feet and exclaim that GASP! You seem to have lost your earring! Can he help you find it because men have much better vision than women! Naturally, he'll be inclined to help a damsel in distress, right? So they say. They also say it will "literally bring him to his knees." Ha! Oh that Cosmo, so clever.

But it got me thinking. Why stop there? I'm saying, why not up the ante and remove your PANTS (don't forget to hide them in your purse to fully embrace the the skills of the pick-up magician), and then when you "exclaim" that you seem to have lost your pants, he'll be like, Whoa, you need my help finding them? And you can be like, Heck yeah, they're my party pants, can't leave home - or this bookstore - without them! That way, not only do you subtly attract his attention, but you also portray yourself as classy, fun-loving, and yet responsible. A date, and possible future marriage (and at this rate, likely, children) is secured.

Genius skips a generation. And sometimes trips right into others.

Sometimes I'm glad I’m behind a desk all day. Twice this week I've realized my pants have been unzipped, then had to wonder how long I'd been too distracted to notice. I'm going to be that mother who drops her kid at school not aware that he's still strapped to his carseat. I'll absentmindedly think it's his backpack. And the teachers will shake their heads and say, That poor Tricky, good thing he's so gangSTAR.