Amazon: (n) a river in South America that flows more than 4,150 miles through Peru, Colombia and Brazil into the Atlantic Ocean. In terms of water flow, it is the largest river in the world.

Yeah, okay.

The Amazon’s a river. Gotcha.

But when I hear the word “Amazon,” I think about that tribe of women running around dominating their atmosphere and surroundings–extra tall, extra beautiful, mythical in nature and the dream of every red-blooded man because they will not be encompassed.

Why a dream? Because deep within the male of our species is the notion that he, individually–and he alone–holds the secret key to every woman’s pleasure.

The times I have seen TV shows or movies portraying these women, unlike my male counterparts, I am completely terrified and would like to run into a corner and suck my thumb.

They are gorgeous, powerful and willing to do anything necessary to keep their autonomy from being subjugated by hairier Homo Sapiens.

So even though I know the Amazon is a river in South America, the image of these domineering, dominating ladies has overtaken my mind and turned the word into a combination of a cartoon and a frightening nightmare.

What would I do if I met an Amazon woman? How would I handle myself in that situation? How would I establish my macho presence?

I would pee my pants … and then surrender.