At a services halfway up the A1 somewhere near Doncaster, there was an advert on the men’s toilet wall that read;
“1 in 5 men suffer with premature ejaculation.”
Surely it’s the women who suffer isn’t it?
Though I wouldn’t know…
…I’m normally asleep by then.
Love Is A Tug Of War
Love is a tug of war,
A war without any hope.
I take the strain,
Then you drop the rope.
1- the reproachful stare.
B – numbered lists.
3 – writing ’10 things women do better than men’ lists.
4 – talking about non practical things on the phone.
5 – talking about practical things on the phone.
6 – at only having one organ to think with.
7 – performing everyday tasks without expecting a gold star or sexual favours.
8 – sexual favours.
9 – remembering what someone was wearing at a specific event 10 years ago.
10 – everything else not mentioned above.
11 – knowing when to stop.
Often, female friends ask me for a male perspective.
I usually burp, ignore everything they say then talk about football.
For Fathers Day I had the choice of
what to do.
I chose to drive to the seaside, watch My daughter’s donkey ride, share a paddle with her in the sub-zero North Sea, lose at the arcade machines, have my arm mangled and half eaten on the ghost train (not by a werewolf, but by my 5 year old girl), eat ice cream despite the windchill, over eat my fish and chip dinner, sing loudly on the way back home after nailing eye spy for half an hour. Heaven.
Normality is heaven.
(Though sometimes only bad news make us ever really appreciate that.)
So to all the Dads, happy Father’s Day.
To all the mums, thanks for making our day even more special.
To all our kids, never stop hanging off our necks (we like it really.)
And to all those who may not have seen their dad’s today because they are no longer with us, remember something good about them and say a toast.
My mug of tea and smoke later will be for you pops.
Now…got some sand to get out of my toes.
Men are to love,
As ants are to picnics.
Though there are exceptions; successful women and poor men are skinny.