Jealously, Amazing Breasts, and Lesbian Street Fighting

If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's to not be so darn jealous. Of women, particularly. If you read no further, male reader who loves women, at least know this: We have no control over a woman's body, it does not belong to us (though we often think or wish it did), and the big secret I'm here to tell you is that a woman's body lives a life quite independent of our own sexual desires. This would seem to be obvious, but the often most obvious things, like a clear sliding glass door, become apparent only after we crash through it and get sliced to pieces.

I learned all this the hard way, but I've always done things the hard way. If the shortest distance betwen two points is a straight line, my Dad used to say, I've got a genetic oddity (from my mother's side, of course) that sends me spinning in circles between those two points, and maybe, if I'm lucky, eventually I bump into one of them.

(more to come...WIP)