Myrna M. sends along this hilarious column — and I know it’s hilarious because I read it aloud to my wife at the breakfast table, and she doubled over several times — that relays news about the dude who signed on at a Nevada brothel to service female customers. He recently quit for lack of any business. The columnist said the brothel’s business assumptions are fatally flawed. Excerpt:

The problem is that sex isn’t what a woman wants from a man.
If they want to make any money, they have to start giving women what they really want.
If I ran a ranch offering titillating services to women, here’s what would be on the menu:
For $20, a woman could stand in a tasteful recreation of a kitchen and watch as a man refills the ice cube tray.
He’ll put on a titillating show by looking into the freezer, using the last cubes in the tray and then exclaiming in a sultry voice: “Oh my. Look at that. We’re out of ice cubes. Maybe I’ll just take the empty tray over to the sink and refill it without being asked.”

It goes from there. I am appalled, appalled, at the accuracy of this sexist diatribe re: describing my behavior. The bit about the trash can cut to the quick…