‘Tis Tuesday, and thus, it necessarily follows that the Demystifying Divas and the Men’s Club are tackling the topic de jour – Full Disclosure – Myth, legend, or tangible dating decorum? Primarily, this inquiry directs itself to one’s sexual history and contemplates when and what you should tell your romantic interest all the embarrassing details. This is one of those topics that’s easy to pigeonhole, and as usual, I’m going to take the low road here, since it’s the road less travelled by my esteemed colleagues.

Essentially, the amount of disclosure should fall on a sliding scale according to progression of a dating relationship. Aside from the things you have an absolute duty to disclose (i.e., sexual health issues), you also must disclose non-sexual afflictions including serious mental illness, as well as your criminal history. Of course, the hope is that there is no criminal history, and if she’s familiar with postmodern dating, she’ll have been savvy enough to at least run your name through an online court database. Seriously. It’s not that a conviction for public drunkeness or some fraternity-related misdemeanor will cause her to run screaming, but it’s essential that a male is forthcoming with this information. If you don’t bring it up before someone else does, then you are a total schmuck.

Another important aspect to consider before you get a woman naked, thereby catalyzing an inevitable vulnerability, is whether you’ve ever cheated on a significant other. This is something that she has a right to know, so come clean. After all, the saying does run true, “Once a cheater, always a cheater.” Your romantic interest has a right to know the odds that she’s up against. If you have fidelity issues, and she’s a relationship type of girl, well, do you want to deal with the aftermath? I don’t think so.

Further down the continuum lies the precise number of one’s previous sexual partners. Assuming you’re disease free, the lady really doesn’t need to hear that she’s number seventeen on your list of bedpost notches. Having a longer or shorter list than most doesn’t predict your future relationship success, unless we’re talking a seriously high number of sexual partners. If both parties are sincere about pursuing a relationship, then the particular number will only breed curiousity and frivolous strain. Nobody needs that kinda stress.

As an amusing interlude on the above topic, if you have a particulary schooled and endearingly crafty woman, she might broach the subject as follows:

She Asks: “So am I prettier/sexier/a better kisser than your ex?”

Lame-Ass Male Response: “You’re way better, but…” (insert fumbling about, followed by ‘Doh!’…cue Nelson Muntz voice….’HA ha.’)

Mutually Rewarding Male Response: “Oh hon, there is absolutely no comparison. We’re talking totally different species here…. especially those lips and that thing you do with your tongue….” (insert sounds of kissing, followed by fumbling about with bra clasp, followed by mmmm-hmmmm.)

See? It that really isn’t so difficult to add a few flattering details specific to your lady. Women really do want it to be all about us when it comes to sexy things. We really don’t give a rat’s ass whether the previous girlfriend gave great head. In fact, we don’t want to know, so don’t be a fool by mentioning it.

Bonus Round: If you want to impress her with a forthright nature, be a gentleman and let her know where you’re going when you hang out with da boys. Letting her know where and when makes you look like a prince and will ward off any auspiciousness. Don’t confuse this with being pussy-whipped, since you’re not asking for permission to go watch a football game. Instead, this merely tells her that you’re not hitting the singles bars, and it makes you look like a swell dude.

Oh, that’s not the entire story. The Divas have more to add, so make haste and visit our guest diva of the week, Moogie, along with the usual reprobates, Feisty, Kathy, and Silk. For the mmhmm maleness, The Wizard, Phin, and the villainous Minister of Propaganda have each brilliantly pontificated for your reading pleasure. In addition, the blogger who swallowed Puffy will also launch his usual retort of sorts in due course.