The toy-boys and the old-boys

I am going to try my best at understanding women who think that young boys are awesome. I am not one of them, but I'm going to try and figure out what' behind the aura of a 22-something. Me... I go along with the aura of the Karta Anzjan.. well almost. But it's still about boys, because boys are boys even at 70. And the more I think I about it, the more I get close to cracking the code. Younger boys and older boys spell excitement, the former because they're so physically horny, the older ones because they're mentally horny. You do get the odd young boy with a very wise head on his sexy shoulders though, the one who has a degree called, 'How to reel a smart woman in'. They know how to say all the right things and the right moment. At 20 something, they are well balanced, and so is their ego. They do not need status, money, or a Corum watch to stride as if they didn't have a care in the world. They just take one look at a smart older woman, they also have a degree in 'Self ophthalmic behaviour', and they know it makes their target weak at the knees. That is probably how the jungle works. The one in perfect physical condition bags the best female. And he'll use the female for all his wants and desires, with the female basking in the glory of the ten times a night practice. When it comes to older men, then the sex takes a trip from below the belt right up to the brain. They too know exactly what to do and say, of course they do, they've been around the block, and it will take a very stupid man with a Karta Anzjan to not have the 'How to reel smart women in' degree. Suddenly a girl does not care if he has wrinkles at the edge of his eyes, she suddenly sees intellect, and what an old boy cannot do with his eyes, he'll do with his hands. The sense of touch is electrifying. It might be no ten times a night thing, more like a three if you're lucky, but it sure seems like it. Because an old boy will thrive on the sense of power, he will have the Corum watch, he will stride as if he's God's better half. He will love a young female because it's the horniest thing that could happen to him. It rubs his ego and his something else and makes him hard. Same as happens in the jungle. This time, it's the wise old lion who looks amused at the younger one because in his twilight years, he too will bring back a smart conquest in. Perhaps there is just one little difference. Both young boys and old boys will have women lusting after them. But older boys will make sure that their conquest is theirs, and be so happy about it that they will look after it/her. Young boys will play around. Perhaps that's why they are called TOY-boys. They're players.

La Battaglia del...

There was a time when I really thought that being married was the be all and end all. Now I realise it might not be really the be all, but more like the end all, since divorce is still plenty of steps away. I was subjected to plenty of marriage peer pressure. I used to hate weddings because there would always be the aunt of the aunt of the aunt of this or that asking... well, when is it going to be you? I would get embarrassed, and just flee. Not anymore, now I like weddings because I drink plenty of Diet Coke. I'm one cheap date. Nobody dares ask anymore, may because they think I sit very prettily as I am, or because they have lost hope. Before my to-be-wed friends thought I was envious, now they're envious of me. Most of my married friends complain about their husbands' bedside manners. I don't, because I still sleep with my dollies you see. But then I get the odd friend who can laugh about her husbands' bedside manners and call it 'la battaglia del russare e de fare i peti'. True to the word, it sounds like petards. And I wonder why so many people are complaining against the festa fireworks, when they have a constant petarding right next to them in their bed. And it seems that men suddenly become snorers once they have said their 'I do'. Marriage suddenly begins to interfere with their intestines too and they seem to start farting their way obliviously through their sleep. I'm not sure what kind of farting it is, whether it's just gas, or something else. Since they're sound asleep, their inhibitions are asleep too so perhaps there's not just one man shitting his pants while in battle and waking up with skid marks. And who does the laundry? Silly question. So, I think, why isn't all of this included in the marriage vows? True it would be gross, to hold and to cherish, to snore and to fart, til death do us part. But it even rhymes effortlessly. We've got to be real. Marriage is a hell of a contract, because it's hellish when you want to get out of it. You might not want to get out of a marriage, but I can understand that a woman would love to get rid of all that high decibel sound while she's trying to get her beauty sleep. That is abuse in the form of sound, and perhaps damage to the olfactory organs too. I have not experienced any of this, not because the fourth finger on my left hand likes naked. On the contrary, it's overloaded. But I still haven't said my 'I do', and my dollies are very polite. They look so pretty too. I think I'm sticking to the dollies.