Another weekend passed without scoring, another play period without a notch carved on my bedpost. At the moment I'm suffering from sweeheart deficiency disorder, for which I shall soon be obtaining treatment. It's gotta a be a syndrome of some sort; a chronic problem like this must be treatable with a really expensive drug.
And by the way, why do we surreptitiously keep score? What difference does the total number of people with whom we have conducted coitus make? If my instinct is correct there's a curve out there that looks something like the trajectory of a low-orbit rocket launch - after a certain number of partners, it's all just floating about in space.
I would like to create a large-scale experiment. Men on the hunt for pussy would split into two groups. The first group would, during the chat-up phase, say they'd had sex with only two women ever in their lives. The other half would explicitly make mention that they'd had sex with twenty women. What's your bet as to the outcome?
And what's with all that notches on bedposts carpentry b.s. anyway? It's SO two centuries ago. Surely there's an iPhone app for that now. Sheesh. I wish these metaphors would automatically update.
Bottoms Up.
Stud from here [link]
Edited for split infinitives.
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