Saturday, April 13, 2013

L is for Lust


I make no bones about the fact that I don't get "love" - or even romance for that matter. If I'm getting naked for you, there's no need for candles, Barry Manilow or strawberries and whip cream. (Though, if you've got a roll of those Sweetheart candies, you might get to the end zone a little faster.)

Lust. Yeah, I get lust. I'm more interested in having sex than having conversations. I'm fixated on looks - no ugly guy is getting in my bed. And if you're into cuddling, I'm not the chick for you.

But every day, someone asks me this question:
"How can I tell if I am in love or lust?"
Bloody hell. I have no idea. And unless you're scheduled for a hit with my red arrow, I don't much care either. I'm not a doctor and won't assess your symptoms - but in my opinion, anyone who thinks they're in love needs to see a shrink, not email me.

I don't know, maybe that diagram on the page helps?

Yeah, I know, love bites. 


- Jagger

1 comment:

  1. Ah, Jagger. You always write what you think. Gotta love it!

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