Let me introduce you to my friend Michael. This is the best way of summing him up:
I recall my first time with a condom; I was 16 or so.
I went in to buy a packet of condoms at the pharmacy. There was this beautiful woman assistant behind the counter, and she could see that I was new at it. She handed me the package and asked if I knew how to wear one.
I honestly answered: 'No, this is my first time.'
So she unwrapped the package, took one out and slipped it over her thumb. She cautioned me to make sure it was on tight and secure. I apparently still looked confused. So she looked all around the store to see if it was empty. It was empty.
'Just a minute,' she said and walked to the door and locked it.
Taking my hand, she led me into the back room, unbuttoned her blouse and removed it. She unhooked her bra and laid it aside.
'Do these excite you?' she asked.
Well, I was so dumb-struck that all I could do was nod my head. She then said it was time to slip the condom on. As I was slipping it on, she dropped her skirt, removed her panties and lay down on a desk.
'Well, come on,' she said, 'we don't have much time.'
So I climbed on her. It was so wonderful that, unfortunately, I could no longer hold back and KAPOW! I was done within a few minutes. She looked at me with a bit of a frown.
Did you put that condom on?' she asked.
"I sure did," I said and held up my thumb to show her.
Michael is a thirty three year old male in desperate need of a vasectomy. From my point of view of course, not his.
He got a girl pregnant when he was seventeen. The girl was twenty four. I know, I know: when he says you're his first, he might just mean it. But give credit where credit's due because Michael is a great dad. He is there for his son's rugby matches and end of the year play, giving him just enough pocket money to not buy cigarettes and a coke, spending time with him jamming it out on Guitar Hero.
Michael adores Gene Simmons (just like me!) from KISS and clings to Gene's philosophy on marriage like crabs to ball hair. My friend is more than happy to be the bachelor with the flat screen TV, the sea of clothes around the washing basket, the three day old chips layered all over the living room table.
Michael became a daddy for the second time (that we know of) with a different girl this March. I think he has a problem, but according to him he's not it. The girl moved in with him so he can "keep an eye on them." Yeah, right.
"I couldn't help it; the condom broke."
How about using one you bought at a store that day and not the old ones you got for free at a varsity party nine years ago in the drawer in the first place?
"It's not my fault she's not on the Pill."
Would it kill you to ask first?
Last week a "long lost love" called him anxiously, wanting to meet.
"Jeez, Michael!" I scolded him like an old mother. "Who the hell in this world haven't you slept with? A nun?"
When he gave me a sheepish grin, I wanted to vomit in my mouth. He has no standards, I swear. And he wonders why I won't introduce him to my girlfriends.
Michael is not a bad guy. He is a gentleman in every other way and not a stingy one at that. He's funny, handsome if you're into tall, blond guys and likes to have a good time without even touching a drink. He just loves the idea of love and being in love. Unfortunately when the feeling disappears, so does he.
The Long Lost Love was fearing pregnancy as she was very late, but too scared to see a doctor. Because he's still my friend and I know a little something about the deceitful ways of women I told him he'd better get her to a doctor and if there is another delivery from the stork on the way, he should insist on a paternity test as soon as he sees those little pink feet.
He came over today wanting to go for a drink to celebrate his 'hit and miss' (one less future-Michael to worry about) when I told him to grow the hell up. Was he ever planning on settling down someday, I asked.
"I'll get married when my children insist on it," and that coming from a preacher's son.
As I mentioned in my previous post, otherwordlyone from Calling people names (you'd better been at her blog already!) awarded me for always having something to say. I'd like to pass this on to the following people:
Matthew: he always makes me feel like the true lady I am (I'm vain, okay! get over it) with his comments and his writing is like having a cup of hot chocolate in the arms of a beloved in front of a fireplace on a cold winter's night. Did that sound poetic or just marvellous? Then yes, that's Matthew for you.
Thegirlwiththepinkteacup: even though not blogging as frequently as all her friends and followers would hope, she still goes through the trouble of leaving long and sincere comments which just proves why she is so popular and loved.
Gorilla Bananas: for a gorilla he is actually pretty talented and he never holds back on the verbal.
Judearoo: for always seeing my point of view and loving it (praise is always welcome here)
Organic Meatbag: he's always honest and true with a dash of humour whenever writing a comment on anyone's blog. You've got to love that in a guy!
Tennyson: he says what he wants to and needs to but in such a way that you end up agreeing with him. He's like the pied piper with an Aussie hat :)
Mo Stoneskin: Monday's with Mo is what I like to call it these days; something to look forward to on one of the dreariest days of the week. In his comments he always relates what you have said back to something in his life; a big plus in my book.
JennyMac: she likes keeping it short and sweet whilst managing to be entertaining at the same time
mysterg: although a Portsmouth fan, he can still leave a comment that manages to make me smile. Maybe I smile because of the fact that he's a Portsmouth fan?! Just kidding, mysterg ;)
Dave King: his comments are always reflective of him being a true gentleman; something money can't buy. Sometimes I don't know how he can stand reading my blog ;)
Eric, I would've nominated you, my dear Italian-speaking-genius-with-marble-annoyingly-talented friend, but otherworldlyone has done it already and rightly so. The same goes for you Sally-Sal, my very first commenter in the dry times and one of my favorite bloggers :)
Thank you all for taking the time and always commenting on what is written here. It's a nice feeling opening my blog in the middle of the day and seeing your name with a comment on my post. My self esteem is like a deflatable mattress sometimes and your comment is like the air pumping it to its proper size.
And thus with my best Elvis impersonation: Thank you; thank you very much!