Monthly Archives: June 2011

The Arrow’s Tip: Where to Park your Tongue

Cupid: Every Thursday, we dish it up straight from the Arrow’s Tip. I respond to your emails with advice from the love master himself. And when he’s not around, you get me. It’s free so don’t complain.

The Arrow’s Tip is all about love or the lack thereof because, honestly, what’s the diff? It’s all suffering. Sometimes we offer the guy’s perspective and for my female clientele, I invited guest blogger Sophie the Card because I’m considerate like that. Allow me to introduce the Card herself.

Sophie: Delighted!

Cupid: This week’s question is from a dude who arranged a first date without my influence and now that he screwed things up, he wants my advice. I should’ve sent him away, but I’m an old softy, in case no one’s noticed. So this guy and girl are out having a good time, slurping lattes and she’s laughing at his jokes. The giggles make him think, “Wow, she’s hot — hot for me!”

One joke leads to another and before you know it, he sticks his tongue down her throat. Not a good time to take the tongue out of the garage for a spin. She abruptly pulls back and gives him the stink eye. Her eye can beat up his tongue any day. He says, “Whoa! I thought you were into me. You laughed at my jokes.”

Sophie: Haha! That’s funny, but don’t get any ideas. To answer the man with the overactive tongue, just because a woman laughs at your jokes doesn’t mean she’s ready for your tongue to move into her mouth. It just means she thinks you’re funny.

Cupid: And what’s a laugh? Just a hiccup having an orgasm.

Sophie: You don’t want to stick your tongue down a new acquaintance’s throat unless she specifically asks, “Would you mind terribly sticking your tongue down my throat? Because it’s that time of the month and my esophagus needs a little intimacy.” If that happens, you have my blessing. Otherwise, hold your tongue.

Cupid: Well, there you have it, straight from the Card. I could just puke.

When to Kiss

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Posted by on June 30, 2011 in The Arrow's Tip


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Rhymes With Cupid

I love this documentary of me in the course of duty. Not thrilled with the title, though. Stupid Cupid? Hello, People! Just because it rhymes doesn’t mean you have to use it. And if you’re really stuck on rhyming, I can think of much better words, for example, Flupid. Or Moopit. Kind of like Muppet, but instead of “muh,” you say “moo” like a cow. Then there’s Poopid, such as what cows drop in copious amounts. Such as the way I feel when I fly into a load of freshly hatched, bird poopid. Oh, never mind… I love Stupid Cupid. It’s adorable.

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Posted by on June 26, 2011 in All In A Day's Work


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That’s moi, circa 1900, riding my galloping fish.

Brooklyn Museum Archives. Goodyear Archival Collection. Visual  materials [6.1.013]:  Paris Exposition photographs. Pont Alexandre III, Paris, France, 1900.

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Posted by on June 25, 2011 in Photos


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It’s me, Cupid, just older and uglier.

Wow. My first post. I hope you’re excited because someone has to be and it’s not me. So why am I here?

This blog is a form of therapy. After all, I’ve been hookin’ up love-crazed humans for ages and to be honest, I’m a little sick of it. You try being immortal and doing the same job century after century without a retirement package or even the hope of dropping dead. Get the pic?

I know, I know. When you’re employed by the gods, you assume you get everything. Lots of perks, good benefits, but to tell you the truth, I report to a Chief Executive Officer who never tires, never retires, and thinks all us immortals should do the same.

I may take a sabbatical, with or without the Big Guy’s permission. A little R&R wouldn’t hurt and, frankly, sometimes he nods off, too. As if we hadn’t noticed.

Everyone makes a mess out of love without my help. But I’m not giving up. Not yet.

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Posted by on June 24, 2011 in All In A Day's Work


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