And I thought I just didn't get the romantic life.
Perhaps we'll start a little "What Shall I Do With My Love Life?" column, right here. All responses welcome. As a long time contributor to the hugely entertaining, highly addictive, often turning-into-jelly-wrestling-type-lowbrow banter blog, Sam And The City (if that offends anyone, please let me know and I'll ignore your complaints - I'm sure even the most ardent fans will agree that Sam's blog doesn't exactly massage the highest of their cerebral functions, or if it does, then ... oh dear) - the topic now turns to romance. Or lack of it.
I head to the streets, and turn my attention to the distressed Pinky.
Maria: Pinky, let me guess. Man problems?
Pinky: Isn't it always? My boyfriend is an idiot. He doesn't know what I want!
Maria: Hmmm, neither do I. What do you want?
Pinky: Boyfriends are jerks! The last one didn't stay long enough to be a boyfriend. He just has sex for a week then he disappears!
Maria: Ummmm ... welll ... Pinky: *glares* I AM NOT A SLUT!
Maria: Errh, I wasn't going to say that. *thinks: next interview I will bring a bodyguard/bulletproof vest/at least a heavy baseball bat*
Pinky: Then the next one gets all gooey eyed and wants to have kids and be my husband - can you believe it? My husband?
Maria: *thinks of glaring eyes* I definitely can't.
Pinky: I just want a gorgeous hunk of spunk who I can use for sex when I want and who'll spoil me rotten and adore me and never look at anyone else but won't marry me and doesn't expect commitment - is that too much to ask?
Maria: Errh ...
Pinky: Men are idiots aren't they?
Maria: *thinks: you'd better hope so* Thanks Pinky, good luck.
There's always someone with a pressing problem. Plenty of those unlucky in love out there.
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