Reviews for Let's Get It On: 15 Hot Tips and Tricks to Spice Up Your Sex Life

The average rating for Let's Get It On: 15 Hot Tips and Tricks to Spice Up Your Sex Life based on 2 reviews is 2.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2009-10-06 00:00:00 Marcus Arianas Heading for the Big Easy I loved this book because it was slow and easy. Peaceful. It was as though the author were cruising down the river on a Sunday afternoon. And I liked him, too, because he was a calm, quiet, and kind person who had a wonderful philosophy and a lyrical style of writing. What more could you ask for? His plan was to begin his trip in Minnesota and end up in New Orleans. A Mississippi River trip. He was warned about taking this trip past Missouri, because it might be unsafe due to racism. He was black. I worried about him too, because we had lived in Mississippi in the 90s, and only lasted 9 months. I grew so tired of hearing the "N" word when talking to other white people I hardly knew. They just thought that I would think like them. I joined a Buddhist group in Memphis, and that was my saving grace. I even had black friends, one who said that she preferred The South to Oregon, where she once lived, because at least she knew where she stood here. Oregon's people were often just politically correct. You never knew if they were racist or not. Me, I just couldn't stand to listen to racist comments. The first half of his trip was the slow and easy part of the trip.I loved it because I needed to relax after listening to the daily news. So, I got to listen to his philosophy of life, his descriptions of nature, the river, and his encounters with people. The white people he met along the way to St. Louis, Missouri were wonderfully kind and helpful. They made me think of the old song, "Dear Hearts and Gentle People." But, then it happened: he arrived in St. Louis, visited with his family, and moved on, but not without his older brother. I was so glad that his brother left after two days because he was ruining Eddy's trip and my peace of mind. But, it didn't end there because he ran into a pack of wild dogs, a sex crazed teenage blonde haired girl that wanted to sleep with him, and then two "red neck,"men that were looking for trouble. Red Neck? People have given the farmers and ranchers of America a bad reputation. They are the red necks, and they can be liberal or conservative, and they can be racists or antiracists. And it makes no difference if you have extended the word Red Necks to others, the same applies. I would have called these men, white supremacists. Yet, he met a lot of nice people in Mississippi and Louisiana. As for the river, well, it isn't like it was in Mark Twain's day. I had to stop remembering what the Mississippi River looked like when we were there. We first saw it off the bridge going into Memphis. We even took a drive to try to get to its shores, but all the roads led to farms that blocked our way. I saw it in New Orleans when I took a trip there, many times, with my sister and niece. We took a five-hour ferry boat ride, and it was boring and a big disappointment because the river's walls were caked in concrete. Once we took a swamp tour in New Orleans, and that was wonderful. It was the way that the Mississippi should have looked. Natural. So, now I am sold on this writer and have begun his book on Harlem. Only Harlem is not the peaceful place it was in the 20s. Well, not that it was totally peaceful, but it was better than it is now, and I am beginning to miss his Mississippi trip.

Review # 2 was written on 2007-12-16 00:00:00 Keegan Brosseau It's been a long time since I read a book and said, "I don't care where this takes me, I just want to see how this author puts the next sentence together." That's how good Eddy Harris is - dude can write! And maybe it's appropriate that we just want to follow the flow of his words as this is a memoir by a centrist black man who is riding the Mississippi from Minnesota to New Orleans just so he can say he did it. Just get in, get on, and ride. And I'm glad I took the plunge (horrible pun), because in Eddy Harris I discovered a dude who made no attempt to sound like anyone but Eddy Harris - he's not sparse, not flowery, not inconsitent. He's just himself, writing with a confidence I wish I had. He can paint a river morning in middle America in a way that hearkens to Steinbeck's muse about a farm cat slinking into the barn in "Grapes of Wrath". Then he can shower down action like Crichton. He's neither of those writers, he's both of those writers, he's 100% himself. I'm going to look for more by Eddy.