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By Emmanuel Williams

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Here’s the thing: I’ve watched Sex and the City while I sip whiskey deep into the night. It helps take the edge off of single life.

It helps me come up with fantastic column ideas like WTAH? 

I mean I idolize Carrie and Samantha, and I still really wanna fuck Charlotte. Miranda, yeah… Not my speed.

Because I write and get inspired just like Carrie, fuck like Samantha (yes I can teach), and still can’t believe we’ve only seen Charlotte’s breasts once over the series (I challenge you to find them). And while I don’t always agree with every topic at the table between the four of them, I sympathize as a writer and a sex freak.

But now that I’m married, I watch it with my whiskey and I feel like I’m being… naughty.

As if my wife would not approve.

But I learned so much from the show.

Like the fact that the guy asking for instructions, is probably the guy you fake it with. Unless he’s hung enough, and teachable, then you’ve got a keeper.

But BIG doesn’t mean BEST. You still gotta be able to hold a conversation, make it to the big events, and be agreeable through every milestone.

And just because she can’t fit into a little black dress, doesn’t mean she can’t be a cowgirl every Friday night without fail.

Okay that last one I learned from experience.

The point is: I’m still learning how to meet women where they are. And if I’m being honest, the show completely meets me where I am as a man. Sure I’m married now, but I’m not a complete APE unwilling to learn from the social habits of women trying to get lucky in New York City.

The true capitol of these United States.

Hey, I love shoes too.

And shopping, and cigarettes… Every time I buy Marlboro Lights I call them “Bradshaws”. Marlboro Smooth I call “Megans”, but that’s a story for another time about the girlfriend who started me smoking cigarettes in the first place.

And wild sex, public sex, blowjobs… I once had a blowjob in plain view on the city river next to the bike path. It might have been 1pm in the afternoon, in the heart of downtown!

Thank God Samantha would understand. Even approve. And thank God no one was arrested!

There’s even the religious angle Charlotte brings with Trey and his mother and all the Jewish trouble with the bald guy she ends up with. Why does religion get a vote on who and when we marry? And WHY we marry?

COME ON!

God doesn’t want you to save your body for marriage, your church does. The New Testament banished the 10 Commandments of the Torah for non Jewish christians. Anyone telling you different is a missionary dispatched to a high crime neighborhood and wants all the young girls not to grow up to be prostitutes.

It has nothing to do with modern christianity.

So if you get guilted into marriage before you have sex, one or the two of you have very little rebellion within.

And rebellion is good!

Rebellion is vital!

Rebellion is AMERICAN!

Actually it’s quite French, Spanish, and Brazilian too.

Ok, so if you must guess, out of the four girls, if they were archetypes ordained by Carl Jung himself, I’m a Samantha/Carrie blend.

Artistically I’m a total Bradshaw.

Sexually I’m a total Samantha.

I guess there is room for Miranda. Because professionally I’m a total Miranda. A success, an asset, and vital. Especially if a bitch could get an orgasm once in a while.

Ok, I think I can give you your imagination back now.

You can find Sex and the City on syndicated channels and where I watch it on demand on the HBO Max app.

Thanks girls. I’m still watching.

-E