Yodean wrote: ↑Fri Dec 03, 2021 4:30 am
stefk wrote: ↑Thu Dec 02, 2021 6:56 pm
On a regular basis, even mediocre sex, wel wel wel not for me thank you.
Better less and fantastic than a lot and mediocre.....
I believe the Irish have a proverb: "When the sex is good, it's fantastic. When the sex is horrible, it's still pretty awesome."
Also, if you f*** enough, you probably won't get sick from cv19; at least that's what an old acquaintance of mine, a Flemish MD from Antwerp, told me.
Thus far personal data is supportive of this thesis!
Well some counter sayings to add some fun
If you want sour milk have an Irishmen stare at a bottle of fresh milk
If mediocre sex is acceptable then the Palm sisters of mercy (plus organic oil) can do an equally justifiable job, minus the mess and clean up. Plus all the unnecessary foreplay involved in order to get a piece of candy that still has its wrapper on
maybe mediocre Sex can help but I would venture that peak intensity workout would keep you just as fit and throw in MB and the protection the combo offers would outgun sex by a factor of 3 in regards to COVID.
Having said that, what is the first thought most have after climaxing (I am now referring to men as women think differently). If there are no emotions involved the first thought its Adios Amiga or hasta las vista senorita
Share your thoughts don't be shy you can only be mocked once or twice or maybe thrice
Two Random Jokes
A woman was at her hairdresser’s getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband.. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded:
” Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It’s crowded and dirty.. You’re crazy to go to Rome .. So, how are you getting there?”
“We’re taking BA,” was the reply. “We got a great rate!”
“BA?” exclaimed the hairdresser.. ” That’s a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they’re always late.
So, where are you staying in Rome ?”
“We’ll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome ‘s Tiber River called Teste.”
“Don’t go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks it’s gonna be something special and exclusive, but it’s really a dump.”
“We’re going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope.”
“That’s rich,” laughed the hairdresser. You and a million other people trying to see him. He’ll look the size of an ant.
Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You’re going to need it…”
A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome
“It was wonderful,” explained the woman, “not only were we on time in one of BA’s brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot.
And the hotel was great! They’d just finished a £5 million remodelling job, and now it’s a jewel, the finest hotel in the city.
They too were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner’s suite at no extra charge!”
“Well,” muttered the hairdresser, “that’s all well and good, but I bet you didn’t get to see the Pope.”
“Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I’d be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me.
Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me”
“Oh, really! What’d he say ?”
He said: “Who the Fuck did your hair?”
Joke 2
An Irishman goes to the doctor, who after examining him says
“You have some problems with your heart, but if you take these tablets, I think it will be okay.
“So the doctor gives the man the tablets and the patient asks,
“Do I have to take them every day?”
No,” replies the doctor, “take one on the Monday, skip the Tuesday, take one on the Wednesday, skip the Thursday and go on like that.
“Two weeks later the doctor is walking down the street, and he sees the patient’s wife.“Hello Mrs Murphy,” he says, “how’s your husband?”
“Oh he died of a heart attack,” says Mrs Murphy.
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” says the doctor, “I thought if he took those tablets he would be all right.”
“Oh the tablets were fine,” says Mrs Murphy,
“It was all the bloody skipping that killed him!