When people ask me if I blog to grow as a writer, I say no.  Blogging makes me a WORSE writer, since I spend most of my time pandering to the unwashed mob.  Do I blog for the friendships that I make along the way?  Don’t make me laugh. Have you read my new “hate blog” — “My Golden Nuggets,” where I parody the most popular mommybloggers, like Mother Jones, Mother Earth, and Mother Theresa.  No, I blog for one reason only — it enables me to step into my giant time machine equipped with all of the latest time machine accoutrements, and go back one day in time, allowing me to re-ask that same girl from yesterday if she wants to go see Pal Joey with me tonight, even though I just returned from the show.   But, this time no more “I just happened to have an extra ticket… and maybe, perhaps, if you don’t have anything else doing…”

This time, I’m doing it right.  Into the time machine — back a day —

Neil:  “Hiya, Susan.”

Susan:  “Hey, Neilochka!  What’s up?”

Neil:  “I was walking down 54th Street today, and I saw that a revival of Rogers and Hart “Pal Joey” was playing, and I said to myself, “You know, I bet Susan would really like to see this, even though I only met you once, so I bought two tickets — without even calling you first — for tomorrow night.  I’ll pick you up at seven.  What’s your address?”

Susan:  “Wow, you bought tickets because you thought of ME?!”

Neil:  “Sure, baby.”

Susan:  “It’s not like you had an extra ticket because your mother had to go somewhere, like to a funeral?”

Neil:  “Of course not.  Broadway musicals always make me think of you, because the very thought of seeing you again makes me want to sing and dance.”

Susan:  “Aww, that is soooo sweet.  I love contrived, dishonest sweet talking.  All women do.”

Neil:  “So, do we have a date?”

Susan:  “I appreciate the offer, but I already have plans.  I’m going out with this handsome and very wealthy internet mogul who has invited me to a black tie gala at the Museum of Natural History to “Save the African Black-Tailed Raccoon.”  U2 is going to be there to give us a private concert.”

Neil:  “Did I mention that there is a Subway sandwich place across the street from the theater, so we can grab some sandwiches before the show?”

Susan:  “It’s very tempting, but…”

Neil:  “Susan, let me ask you something.  And be honest with me.  When was the last time you had a really good orgasm?”

Susan:  “Uh…let me think.  About two weeks ago, when I was home alone in bed, reading the last chapter of “Twilight.””

Neil:  “I’ll pick you up at seven.  Wear something short, with high heels.”

Susan:  “OK.”

Neil:  (offscreen):  “This post is moronic,”

Neil’s Penis:  (offscreen):  “Just shut up and play along.   Think of this post as damage control for your reputation.   Like Motrin pulling that ad.”

Neil:  (offscreen):  “No one’s gonna buy what I am saying!  There’s no such thing as a time machine either.”

Neil’s Penis:  (offscreen)  “Aw man, you underestimate the power of new media.  People believe anything!”

Neil:  (offscreen)  “Shouldn’t I at least say something about the musical I saw.  There must be someone out there who is curious to hear uh…”

Neil’s Penis:  (offscreen)  “…uh, yeah, right.   Danny from Jew Eat Yet.  He’s about the only one you know who gives a shit about a revival of Pal Joey.”

Neil:  (to Danny at Jew Eat Yet)  “Danny, it was OK… it had some problems, although Martha Plimpton had a surprisingly good voice.  But the show seems old.”

Neil’s Penis:  (offscreen)  “Frankly, I don’t see why anyone would pay 70 bucks for a show that doesn’t have at least one semi-nude sex scene!  You can just stay home and watch HBO!”

Neil:  (offscreen)  “Can I stop writing this post so I can go to sleep?”

Neil’s Penis (offscreen)  “Oh, tell them that one more thing about tonight.”

Neil:  “Oh yeah, right.  On the way to the theater, I passed the Ziegfeld, where they were having the New York premiere of Australia.  And I briefly saw Hugh Jackman’s arm as he walked down the red carpet.”

Neil’s Penis: “And does he have the world’s sexiest male arm?”

Neil:  “It really wasn’t that much better than mine.”

Neil’s Penis:  “Good, I like to hear that.  Confidence!  Women like that.”