PapaJohnQ
Posts: 24
Joined: 2/28/2009
Status: offline
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The basic problem with women is that they are not men. Thank heaven for problems. Like the various theories which psychology and religion thrive upon, few of them are based on reality. A woman recently wrote a book relating her experiences resulting from having sex daily for a year with her own husband! Amazing. For some years women have been proclaiming not that they are just as good at ... [fill in the activity] as men, but that they are just as good as men.
Some of us men have followed this argument with some amusement. Not just because we are generally bigger, stronger, tougher, faster, (pick your own poison) than women, but because we realize their superiority in so many ways. They are smarter, lovlier, more caring, more beautiful, more desireable than men.
Perhaps, because of our aggressive competative nature, we don't want it generally known how superior women are to men. Worse yet is the fact that no man has ever understood any woman, regardless of the amount of disinformation we put out to the contrary.
We are different! Men live on a three to five day cycle. Our hormonal balance changes so quickly and often that most of us have forgotten by the time we have quit the puberty phase and have entered into the hunter gatherer phase. Since society has basically provided us with the Harley of our choice, (in my ill spent youth, it was a large bicycle with a sprung fork, an old aviation motor that shook you so that if you used it long enough your kidneys became jello, and a device which caused one of your knees to swell up like a basket ball. Those were the days when men of iron quickly turned to used meat. Try pushing a hard tail in the Mojave sun after all the spare plugs have been fried, and passersby on 4-6-or-18 wheels look at you as they pass you by as if you were #uno on the PO posters.)
There is nothing left worth capturing other than one of these captivating creatures.
Women on the other hand have cycles of, according to the textbooks, 29 days. During these cycles very complicated hormonal processes plus thousands of other things are going on in their bodies, to include but not limited to, their brains. Men, can you imagine what it would be like if we had to go through the entire process of puberty every 29 days?, NO! Me neither. But I have watched it and been awed by it for the best part of 50 years.
Before that I was so fascinated by me as me and me in relation to the rest of the world, I am not sure that I realized that women had a seperate identity from my own. Just as it was when I was a feotal creature in the womb, my expectations were that my needs be met, and by golly, if they were not I kicked and punched until they were. What a terrible shock it was to make real world discoveries like diapers, hunger, and having to wait my turn.
When I was born, it was my turn!
Being somewhat retarded, I had various phases I had to go through before I realized that women were not necessarily creations of my perversions, but actual unique entities with their own needs and desires, many of which revolved around being wanted, needed, and nurtured and protected. When women were attracted to me, I had no idea why. I thought it was related to activity one one of my phases. I started out with photography at seven. Then it was racing. Bikes, outboard boats, cars which like me were not normal, sailboats, and aircraft. I got the most reaction from the cars which I drove.
All my life I have had the body of a grecco/romanish god, albiet not always the same one. When I was born, it was a toss up if I were a cherub, or a putti. I laughed and smiled with three original teeth. This lead to my first defeat in the battle of the sexes. My mother refused to breast feed me, resulting in a life long urge to bite beautiful women wherever. Nurses would bring their friends in to see "The baby who smiles!" and would do whatever necessary to make sure I did. The control function started at an early age. (Tip: If you neither want nor need your woman, your control is automatic. Caveat: This being the case she may quickly move on to one who gives her the feeling of being needed and wanted. This is a basic dilemma in the dynamic of the relation Master/slave.)
As I grew, I developed into Mercury, the god of speed, slight, fast, and carrier of important messages, Young girls flocked to me as did older women. I thought it was a thing women did. Having a mother and two nearly a decade older sisters, I was used to women, but found mostly that they got in my way. They could neither cook, nor throw a baseball, and they ran like girls. By the end of this period they were offering me their bodies with the threat of hearth and home. It was terrifying for a young lad. It was in this phase that I discovered I was a dominant ("Hit me!", begged the maso. "N0!" replied the Dom.) personality, but have never decided if all my subs were submissive from nature, or simply let me dominate for a whole series of reasons so complicated that we could never figure them out.
As I grew in strength and competence I became closer to Mars, the god of war. This was a rather trying period for me. All the comely young flower children of my youth disappeared, horrified by my body and my mind. They were replaced by women who were more ripe and more bountiful, of such striking beauty that they were often alone in their splendor. Too dumb to notice, I would lay in wait planning my ambush tactics carefully, only to wonder if she had run from me until the time was judged ripe for my capture. These women had no clue as to why men fled.
I was happy with that state of affairs. But regardles of the reasons, they were lovely companions. In public we garnered two types of glances. Men glommed onto my current companion, then tried to check me out. Aside from looking rather insignificant, I weighed a mere 135 Kilos of running, swimming, and biking body. (It is amazing how fast 300 lbs will destroy a mountain bike.) Their faces quickly turned to a complacent, "Ah ha! He bought her - or rented her out for the evening." Their more observant female companions sneered at her, "Cinderella - or worse - or stupid!) But they kept sneeking glances at me because they realized it was I who was the reason for my companion's attention.
Later as I got into blue water sailing, I resembled Neptune. I was at the height of my physical prowess. Women of all sizes and ages flocked to me. But I came to realize that those who had passed the climacterium were just as interested and interesting as those who had not.
Now I am old. I look like Bacchus. I weigh just under 180 Kilos, circa 400 lbs. My body is dying as fast as my mind. The cancer grows, slowly but inevitibly. The bone mass is decreasing.
Who Cares? I have had the most wonderful of lives. My current companion has been with me for 35 years, and reminds me daily how much she loves me, and how glad she is that I am there to be a pasha to her. Our children are grown, and have begun their lives with great starts.
Thanks to Skype we see and speak to each other daily, despite the fact that they are mostly not in the same country as I am.
If I had to do it over again, knowing what I know now, I would probably do it bigger and better, and the mistakes would assume horrendous proportions. My message to all of you clockwatchers is that it is basically demeaning to let your lives be determined by a machine, whether it is a clock or a computer.
Goals are important. Sure it is nice to have a chart, and a destination. But the end of the trip is not the end. The trip is the end. Live it! Breath it! Smell it! Taste it! Fight it! Revel in it! Be not afraid to exuberate! Laugh out loud! Be not governed by your expectations of what you may perceive or imagine that others expect for you! It may be the only thing which belongs to you! Treat it with care! It will eventually kill you. Put off dying as long as possible! It is inevitable! It is the one thing you can always do later. Leave despair for the shrinks and the fear mongers. Who needs them! Dispair youself from despair.
I was devouring some roses the other day. "Great hips!" I thought to myself, "If anyone ever needed a shrink it is you guys. But do you get one?"
Enjoy and rejoice!
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RE: Time is Ticking - 
................luci
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