what i want to know, though, is how is it that i am routinely the only one at a table full of women able to finish her meal? is it that i am the only one honest enough to not play that "oh, i am such a dainty creature that i couldn't possibly force another morsel into this delicate mouth of mine" game? or do most women really look at that relatively average amount of food on their plate and shudder delicately? and remember, these are women who every single time end up talking about cocks. or worse! this ain't no church sewing circle!
sigh...for a lot of years spending time around the university polish club made me feel like a hormonally challenged gorilla with an alcohol problem, what with the hour long nursing of a single fucking margarita that most of these polish chicks engaged in (for no other reason than to drive me out of my goddamn mind, as i hoovered the appetizer, the main course and a bottle of wine. at. the. same. time.) again - was this all about the mythical daintiness factor?
i am now offering a resounding "fuck it" to all the dainty girls out there. i will eat. i will drink. and then we'll all talk about cocks. we're dainty that way.