Sex Rehab - Next Up: People Who Breathe Air, And Like It (This Post is Rated R, Cousins - Stop Reading)

Dear Tiger Woods, Jesse James, and everyone from Dr. Drew's Sex Rehab,

I don't believe you.


Love,
Amy



Why come single people never have to go to Sex Rehab? Is it that the disease of wanting to have sex with more than one person isn't a disease if you're single? Like a gold band is the carrier for the enzymes that produce the sex-wanting virus, and so yeah - single people want sex, but it's only the married's who are having it that are suddenly struck with this debilitating disorder?

I don't believe it.

People having sex isn't something you need rehab for is it? I mean, how many people have sold their body or sucked dick to have sex?

I mean. . .

Wait, what?

Nobody O.D.s on sex and has to be rushed to the hospital so nurses can rub charcoal all over their private parts, and give them an IV to counterbalance endorphins. And people don't usually start shaking, and vomiting because it's been too long since the last time they boned down and so clinic workers are giving them a loving embrace and showing them a long talk can be a good substitute, or for women, chocolate, because somewhere, sometime, someone said there's something in chocolate that mimics the effects of a woman having an orgasm but like by 1 millionth of a percent, and ever since women have been eating pounds and pounds of See's candy just to see if it's true.

Now, I'm not saying sex isn't a ruiner of things and lives and makes people do crazy things. I know lots of people get shot for having sex (with the wrong person, not just like 'Aaah you're having sex!' *BANG*), and go all ape shit crazy trying to have sex, and it repopulates the world and blah, blah, blah. It's a powerful force of nature. It can control. I get it. But rehab? REALLY?

I mean. . . I would totally cut somebody to sleep with Richard Alpert, but that doesn't mean I need rehab! It means I need to find out where he lives and sneak into his house at night like a normal person.


Anyway, in order to put a good spin on it I've decided maybe sex rehab is a good excuse for my sister to make bastards all around the globe. So that's what I'm hoping - that she starts sleeping around (with no birth control) (oh and with men)(because the disease confuses her) so that I have tons and tons of different looking nieces and nephews to shower with pent-up love and attention. And then when she's done she can just tell everyone that she needs rehab, and we'll all stick by her, and visit her on family day, and sneak her cigarettes and hair brushes she can whittle down into a shank.

"I think you're confusing rehab with prison," says the person standing over my shoulder reading this who should get back to doing tax returns.

"Maybe. But maybe you need a shank in sex rehab."

"To defend against the people who need a fix?"

"Exactly."


So there you go Becky. I'm gonna go see if I can get Jesse James to sneeze on a napkin for me so I can give it to you and see if you can catch some of whatever it is he has. Rehab, put on your chastity belt! Becky's coming!