If you’re in the L.A. area, please check out our annual breast cancer benefit Breast Cancer Be Trippin. If you’re not in L.A. or if you’re busy that night, please consider making a donation to the ABCF.

Some women cling religiously to their daily planner. They can’t even pop into Starbucks without checking the agenda to make sure they’ve got fifteen minutes free. These super-planners also write stuff after the fact, so that their calendar functions as an ongoing journal of daily life. These super-planners might also make extensive use of some complicated system of color-coded symbols, more intricate than a Mayan calendar and more difficult to decipher than the Rosetta Stone. They use a red sad face to indicate the start of her period, a green dot to indicate a night smoking pot, and (in my personal favorite) a red heart to indicate the ultimate - penis in vagina.

Why these women need to delineate each time they get down is beyond me. Do these women look back at the end of the year - the way an accountant adds up receipts - and use all that July sex as a tax write-off? Is it a compilation of firsthand evidence, to use as proof if the boyfriend ever claims they’re not having enough sex? Is it the modern version of a reliable primary source, almost as if Abigail Adams (in addition to her letters) had kept careful track of every time she knocked boots in the White House?

I can think of no logical reason to keep track of this. In fact, you’d think that guys, in all their macho libidinousness, would be the ones keeping track, but I’ve never met a dude who kept a daily tally - counting nights of sex the way the Count of Monte Cristo counts days in prison.

Dear ladies: Why do you do this?
Tip for guys: If your girlfriend does this, be afraid.

If you’re in the L.A. area, please check out our annual breast cancer benefit Breast Cancer Be Trippin. If you’re not in L.A. or if you’re busy that night, please consider making a donation to the ABCF.

Last year, we took a look at Valentine’s Day from a guy’s perspective. This year, we’d like to celebrate the most trippin day of the year with a few Do’s and Don’ts for the fourteenth of February. I made my Valentine’s Day bones with flowers and cards, but now - a little older and a little wiser - I think I’ve got some insight on this made-up holiday that’s worth sharing.

If you’ve got suggestions for Do’s and Don’ts for Valentine’s Day, feel free to share them in the comments section. We’ll choose our favorite suggestion, and the Valentine’s Day wiseguy (or girl) will find himself with $110 worth of cologne and skin products on behalf of The Body Shop. To double your chances, post your Do’s and Don’ts both here and at The Body Shop’s Do This, Not That.

DO buy a card. For whatever reason, women love getting cards.

DON’T buy only a card. Even if it’s one of those awesome ones that plays music when you open it, a card alone does not guarantee an argument-free V-Day.

DO tell her that her hair looks good.

DON’T sigh in exasperation when you get the bill at dinner.

DO go out to dinner.

DON’T think that you can score a rad table if you haven’t already made a reservation. At this point, you should just give up. The ship has sailed, my friend.

Now, we’d love to hear yours…

A half dozen comedians will stand up to breast cancer when they take the stage at Breast Cancer Be Trippin, an evening of comedy to benefit uninsured women in the fight against breast cancer. Breast Cancer Be Trippin will be held Wednesday, February 24th, at the National Comedy Theatre (733 Seward St., Hollywood), home to ComedySportz. BCBT3 begins at 8pm. Tickets are $25.

The evening of comedy includes performances by:

• Cat Davis (Cat on the Prowl)
• Megan Mooney (Comedy Central Presents)
• Whitney Cummings (Chelsea Lately)
• Sarah Silverman (The Sarah Silverman Program)
• Garfunkel & Oates (The Jay Leno Show).
• …and more.

Breast cancer is among the two deadliest cancers for American women. Everyone knows someone who’s been affected by breast cancer – moms, sisters, grandmothers, hair stylists, Christina Applegate. Breast Cancer Be Trippin is designed to get out a critical message and raise awareness among both men and women who might not normally spend time worrying about the disease.

Each day, over 100 American women die from breast cancer. That’s an average of one death every thirteen minutes. Overall, one in eight women in America will be diagnosed with breast cancer at some point in her lifetime. A leading risk factor for breast cancer is late detection. Women are advised to obtain a mammogram every other year after they reach the age of forty, yet a third of women over forty have not received a mammogram in the last two years.

If breast cancer is detected early enough, the patient has a 98% rate of survival, but unfortunately, almost 40% of breast cancer is not detected until the cancer has spread beyond the localized stage. Access to mammograms will facilitate early detection. However, Los Angeles County, alone, has over one million uninsured women – women who do not have easy access to mammograms – and there are nearly twenty million uninsured women nationally.

It sounds cliché, but in this case, a little really does go a long way. Our hope is that Breast Cancer Be Trippin will give people an immediate return for their donation – in this case, a night of comedy. Over the past two years, Breast Cancer Be Trippin has raised over $1,000 for the American Breast Cancer Foundation. For tickets, visit BreastCancerBeTrippin.com.

Girls have birthday parties, and they invite each and every one of their friends. If one of those friends doesn’t show up, better for that person to have never been born than to have to face the wrath of an angry birthday girl.

Essentially, women use birthday parties as an annual checklist of their friends. Whoever shows up at the party gets a reprieve for another calendar year. Whoever is notably absent is put on the chopping block. No call, no text, no gift? Soon, that “friend” is going to find herself de-friended on Facebook, un-followed on Twitter, and #-erased on the cell.

I personally think that’s a bit harsh. Birthdays are important days, especially the milestones (i.e. 18, 21, and 30), but celebrating each one like it’s a mid-year Christmas is asking too much. The fact of the matter is that nobody cares as much about your birthday as you do. While guys, in my opinion, understand this and generally want their parties to be fun nights to hang out with friends, women invest much more energy into making sure that everything turns out perfectly and everyone shows up and has a great time.

I was at a friend’s house the other day, and I noticed that she had multiple Christmas cards on the wall from the same family. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the cards were from different years, spanning all the way back to 2006. When I asked her about this, she said that she keeps the Christmas cards to watch her friends grow older.

Oh boy. I, too, like to watch my friends grow older, but I do it with these novel things I call eyes and a memory, not a hoarded collection of holiday cards.

I toss out all my Christmas cards on January 6th, the twelfth day of Christmas. I don’t keep them for years and years, pulling them out of some garage bin every December to reminisce about Christmases of yore. Is this nuts? Am I just not being empathetic or sentimental enough to understand this phenomenon?

A woman in Seattle took logical initiative when she thought she was being pulled over too much simply because she was pretty and not because she’s a shitty driver. So, instead of the ole’ fashioned cry or “cleave shwoing” this girl (who refused to give her name) did this instead:

She claims that the profiling has sinced stopped. Which is a good thing, cause I don’t think the Seattle PD has time to waste on all this handsome.

Every woman has been in this situation: She’s at a bar, hanging out with her girlfriends, and some dude comes up, spitting some sorry excuse for game, and offers to buy her a drink. She smiles politely and informs the dude that she’s got a boyfriend.

Except she doesn’t.

She’s totally single. She either doesn’t want to be bothered on a night out with her friends or she’s simply not interested in this d-bag. In either case, why does she need to lie? Call me old-fashioned, but shouldn’t the truth suffice?

Girls usually hide behind the lie to expedite things. If she tells the truth, then the guy is going to desperately try to sell himself, Billy Mays-style. If that’s the case, then ladies just need to bitch it up. A guy won’t think twice about walking away from a real ball-buster, so rather than lying about some fantasy boyfriend, why doesn’t she just put on her bitchitude?

And fake engagement rings? This is taking things a little far, isn’t it? This is making a monetary investment in a facade. Again, rather than buying some cubic zirconia for a 20-spot and pretending that you live in some soap opera or Sandra Bullock movie, let’s just work on telling the truth and cutting the unneeded drama out of our lives.

As a man, you can be friends with a lots of different kinds of people, but if you’re in a committed relationship, there’s one type of friend that you absolutely cannot have - a hot friend. I’m talking, of course, about the female variety. You can have hot dude friends. No one will care about that, but a hot girl friend quickly puts an unnecessary burden on the ’ship.

Girls can be friends with some dreamboat from work or a guy she met at the gym, but if you try to invite some hottie with a body to your next dinner party, you’re in for a world of suspicion. You’re always on the hook for why you’re friends - as if it’s okay to be friends with a hundred smart, funny, ugly girls, but one smart, funny, pretty girl sets off all the alarms.

Additionally, girlfriends resort to their disastrously catty selves, where every comment and question is intended to tear down other women - in this case, the hot friend.

Why is that?