dedalus Posted February 22, 2012 Share Posted February 22, 2012 You don’t fuck around with love, you fuck within it. Nobody told me when I was a dumb young ma-ma-man and this truth eluded me, I sorta took sharp notice of the girls, we always do, and went for the one-night stands. Sex without love is like, I don’t know, spaghetti without any sauce on top, sushi without the fish, steak without potatoes & two veg: ham without eggs, chips with no salt and vinegar. It just doesn’t do you, it leaves you feeling insubstantial, hardly fed or watered at all, a drooping dahlia in the garden of life. Maybe a begonia. This (you think) is no bloody good at all. So then you get married. Sick and tired of dating, you propose to the next sexy thing that comes along, a girl you rather like in the hope that , having said she likes you too, things will more or less work out OK. Generally, they don’t. If you have kids it gets even worse. But …but sometimes they do! It’s like betting on the red and black at roulette. Sometimes you are lucky, sometimes you are not. Hell of a way to set up a lifelong partnership. You just get tired of dating girls and going through the same old fandango. I think that’s what drives most mediocre guys like me, and you, Bubba, to say you want to get married or what? Dreadfully romantic. Surprisingly, girls usually say yes. Lotsa pressure coming down on the other side, especially after you meet the family. You can see why they want to get away and you, ya booby, are the escape chute. It’s a 50-50 proposition, taken all in all, and love can grow. High school sweethearts are not normal, they end up murdering one another with alarming frequency. Killing children as well which I distinctly dislike, leave the kids alone so they can grow up to be serial killers or recipients of the Pulitzer or Nobel Prizes. I just hate the idea of parents who have totally fucked up their own sorry lives dragging their children down with them. Magda Goebbels may you rot in hell, poisoning all five of your children! Not just you … all who did the same. I think there should be neighbourhood comfort ladies ringing at your doorbell, ding-dong. I can run upstairs and fuck your husband, if you like, and save you the grief and trouble. We accept Visa and Mastercard, but, I’m sorry, not American Express. Amexco is notorious for delayed payments. If you have one of their cards, get rid of it. Similar services should be available for ladies thanks to Equal Rights legislation: we can send Roland around when your husband’s at work, or even when he’s at home peering through a hole in the wall. Our condoms are double-strength and guaranteed. So what hath sex to do with love? A lot, a lot, a lot! But sometimes very little. Quote Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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