The Problem with Men

I'm rushing for a deadline so I'm trying to make this short and simple.

Yeah, the Man is still away and my hormones are still raging with undulating force. Christ, I feel almost preggers! I keep squinching in my chair. Boss is giving me weird looks. Must stop.

Yeah so this leaves me with more time to actually think. I was having my coffee and a shared stick of cancer with Karen by the stairwell, when we started talking about men.

Karen's totally attracted to Ong who's this tall, lanky looking design guy. And a few weeks ago he too professed his like for her. So everything should be fine and dandy and by now they should be mating like a bunch of bunnies on Energizer/Duracell/ batteries, no?

NOT THE CASE.


Why?


I'll tell you.

Karen and Ong have been dating for a few weeks and while both of them are absolutely randy. Karen cant bring herself to just plain fuck his brains out because they guy just doesn't care about many things important to her. Well, not entirely IMPORTANT lah, but of some weight.... I guess.


He literally puts no effort into making their meetings special while she goes to these great lengths of looking great and being totally prepared to shag everytime they meet. She goes all out she tells me,

Perfume, make-up, lacy underwear, condoms, lube, whipped cream bikini ... ok no. but you get the picture?

He comes to her house in torn shorts and a ratty Visit Kota Kinabalu shirt. The mood is gone. And according to her, she could smell fried food on him. I don't even know how that happened, but you get the picture. He was no Daisy.




"It's not like I expect him to look like fucking GQ man of the month!!!! He's no leng chai, we all know. But just a little bit of fucking effort lah!

"Don't they know sex is a two way thing? By all means go down on me cos I taste and smell fucking great, but I am not going down South when you look questionable on the outside already okay!"

"How lah! How Jez? To go down on him? You know my face right, it'll just be a mile long and if he notices, gone lah!"

I sort of mumble in agreement. I know all too well how it feels when someone you're about to shag is not entirely, ahem, clean. I cannot begin to tell you how much of a turn off it is, when you are down on your knees geared up and ready. Popsicle fun! And BAM, you're like gagging.

Sensory overload in a bad way.... really. COs it's in your face, literally and GOD you're seeing, smelling, and OH FUCK, you're going to be smelling soon :( Puts you off the whole thing, and you can't offend someone at that point in time you know? I mean, there's always that question of blue balls they WILL bring up. And sitll you can't scream on top of your lungs,

"YOU SMELL YOU P.O.S!!"

So you end up doing it anyhow, and gagging all the way. And smile in a very painfully constipated kind of way when they ask you how it was for you. When all the while you want to scream and rip out your hair.

Ok, maybe not lah. But you get the picture.

Right after Karen stamps out the cigarette with those cute new trainers, (it's Casual Friday everyday where we are ;)) Ong walks by, says hi and Karen makes a face.... ahh lovebirds. I told her, take a shower with him.... try that out. Hell give him head in the shower. Karen is sort of forgiving..... it's been a long time for her too. But i hope she solves this, she's got a really short fuse these past few days, and I'm afraid she might actually beat the crap out of Ong soon, if she doesn't get some.

I have work now, and there's a story about Edward the IT guy, who I'm trying to make over. I haven't decided whether I myself want to shag him, but either way, some woman should benefit from his new makeover. Ok too del loo.