Ayn Carrillo-Gailey has a problem. A big, ugly list-making problem. The final straw is when she screams out the lone item she forgot to pick up at the store while her boyfriend is knee-deep in her; Greg (rightfully so) rolls off and promptly falls asleep. Ayn spends the rest of the night wondering just what in the hell is wrong with her. Actually, no she doesn't. She wonders why it is that after two years of dating her and one month of living with her, he does not realize that she simply does not forget anything.

He wakes the following morning to find her in the kitchen eating breakfast, making more lists. He rolls his eyes to express his displeasure, no doubt reliving the sting of the blow she dealt him last night. She becomes defensive and points out that "have sex with Greg" and "talk to Greg about last night" are both on her to-do lists. What a wonderful way to operate a relationship, no? Yeah, that's a big fat no and Greg agrees with me.

After failing to make her see his point about spontaneity and not keeping track of every little thing, he storms off to his office in the garage to test video games. She sets off to find her copy of Star magazine and discovers it is not in her bathroom, nor in Greg's. But, oops! There are three copies of pornographic magazines with the pages stuck together! OH NOES! She races into the garage to confront him about his disgusting habit.

As expected, he sits there taking in her tirade about how pornography is degrading to women. She stops short of telling him how it makes her feel insecure when he declares, without hesitation, that she is "pornophobic". And damn if he didn't hit that nail on the head. After much protesting, she calls an emergency meeting of the Naughty Knitters.

The Naughty Knitters are a group of her best friends that knit hats, booties and scarves for the less fortunate. They're also a medium for all things gossip related. There's Vee: the hyper-sexed, recently dumped for a younger woman, Latina cougar. There's Maya: the assistant to the Hollywood types. There's Paige: a self-involved writer who only attends the meetings for the gossip and to use her friends as a sounding board. There's Tricia: who, apparently, is so boring she doesn't even get a background description. Then there's Stephen: the metrosexual best friend of Ayn, also recently dumped after a ten year relationship.

After discussing the events of the night before and the morning after, the group convinces her to explore the world of porn and report back to them with her findings. She agrees and sets off to knock off the items she's listed:

1. Visit a strip club
2. Watch porn
3. Read erotica
4. Throw a sex-toy party
5. Visit a sex store
6. Enroll in blow-job seminar
7. Test vibrators
8. Read a dirty magazine
9. Consult a sex expert
10. Where do men hide their porn?
11. Check out a brothel
12. Meet a porn star

All of those sound fairly tame to me, but she approaches the list like someone who is completely out of her league. She stumbles, falters and makes an ass out of herself more times than I thought any one human being was capable of, all the while dragging her friends into the fray. Surprisingly, this made her idiotic statements and beliefs about the women involved in the sex industry and the world of porn in general a little more palatable. Still, she's no Jenna Jameson by the time we get to the final chapter.

I enjoy Ayn's writing style and the honesty with which she presents her misguided adventures into pornology, but her judgmental statements about overweight sisters really irked me. Especially considering the fact that in one of the first few pages she sneaks into the bathroom to eat a piece of cake while her boyfriend naps on the couch. She also likes to throw around terms like "white trash" and seems to have been brain washed (without ever realizing it), to believe that all women in the industry are Grecian goddesses. And let's face it, if you've ever walked into a topless bar on the south side of town you know that simply is not true.

Her attempts to educate herself waffle from prudish to gung-ho to pensive while maintaining a healthy sense of humor about the whole thing. A self-described good girl, I doubt she'll be twirling the brass pole at any point in the future. Still, I appreciated her intention to get in there with both hands and find out the truth for herself (even though she did for the wrong reasons), and I admit it was hilarious to watch her fall all over herself.

I sent this to a friend who needed a little bit of exposure to the world of porn and all things adult. She seemed to like it well enough and has passed it onto another friend of her's.