I would like to tell everyone about love.
Now, this isn't your church Godly love, or your married-75-years-chicken-dance love. The kind of love I would like to talk about, is the kind that God intended us to have. The kind you'd see, if a caveman and cavewoman saw each other across the river.
I saw a girl. She came into Airimba. She had highheels, or some form of elevated shoes. I don't know if they were heels, but somthing that made her legs look longer. And her legs were long. They were slender. They went all the way up to the shortest pair of jeans they sell. Express Jean Shorts...goddam what a rush. Midrift was showing, and her tank top was stretched to it's limit by a pair of breasts that ... well, I later found out that she had just given birth, and her chest was meant for reproduction. Proportionally, they were the largest I have ever seen. Tanner than a filipino, dirtier blond than sand.
Beauty.
Carnal ferocity would not describe the things I wanted to do to her right there, infront of my boss, infront of my customers, in front of all of creation. My heart was going crazy...not the kind of crazy where you're in love, but the kind of crazy where so much blood is pumping that your eyes get blurry, and you can't hear anything. I started sweating like those stupid school boys who see a bra for the first time. In the theatrical sense of sex...if 1 were your average thursday afternoon mantinee, and 10 being the most depraved act of sexual reproduction known to the stage, not to be modest, but I would have commited an 11. I was a caveman. She was beautiful.
Now, all that description of beauty doesn't matter. Doesn't matter what she looked like really, what matter was the feeling. I was a caveman. I wanted her in the most basic way a human can need something. Ladies, this is the imporant part of the post. it doesn't matter what you look like...fat, skinny, blond, brunette...hundreds, even thousands of guys may see you every day, and every single one of them at least glances at you. It's natural, it's hereditary. They have to. Now, out of those guys who look at you, there is one who feels the same way towards you that I looked at that girl who came into my office. Honestly, she wasn't that pretty...I looked at pictures I took with my phone camera, and she's not someone that everyone would think is pretty. However look at that description; she was perfect in my eyes, and that description is how she came accross when I first saw her. So ladies reading this. Like I said...no matter what you look like, there is some guy who will see you as that perfect object of survival desire. Now THAT is beauty. I am sure a guy has seen you today and thought that.
This girl who came into Airimba..w e called her Lauren McHottie because we didn't know her name. Now this has happened several times in my life. I've seen the end-all girl. However all the girls I've met like this fall into one of the following catagories: 1) Dating someone else 2) Way out of my league 3) Off limits for varius reasons. And I hate that last one.
Okay, that's the first part of what I have to say about beauty. The second part I would like to say, I will say some time if I am feeling more bold.
Now, this isn't your church Godly love, or your married-75-years-chicken-dance love. The kind of love I would like to talk about, is the kind that God intended us to have. The kind you'd see, if a caveman and cavewoman saw each other across the river.
I saw a girl. She came into Airimba. She had highheels, or some form of elevated shoes. I don't know if they were heels, but somthing that made her legs look longer. And her legs were long. They were slender. They went all the way up to the shortest pair of jeans they sell. Express Jean Shorts...goddam what a rush. Midrift was showing, and her tank top was stretched to it's limit by a pair of breasts that ... well, I later found out that she had just given birth, and her chest was meant for reproduction. Proportionally, they were the largest I have ever seen. Tanner than a filipino, dirtier blond than sand.
Beauty.
Carnal ferocity would not describe the things I wanted to do to her right there, infront of my boss, infront of my customers, in front of all of creation. My heart was going crazy...not the kind of crazy where you're in love, but the kind of crazy where so much blood is pumping that your eyes get blurry, and you can't hear anything. I started sweating like those stupid school boys who see a bra for the first time. In the theatrical sense of sex...if 1 were your average thursday afternoon mantinee, and 10 being the most depraved act of sexual reproduction known to the stage, not to be modest, but I would have commited an 11. I was a caveman. She was beautiful.
Now, all that description of beauty doesn't matter. Doesn't matter what she looked like really, what matter was the feeling. I was a caveman. I wanted her in the most basic way a human can need something. Ladies, this is the imporant part of the post. it doesn't matter what you look like...fat, skinny, blond, brunette...hundreds, even thousands of guys may see you every day, and every single one of them at least glances at you. It's natural, it's hereditary. They have to. Now, out of those guys who look at you, there is one who feels the same way towards you that I looked at that girl who came into my office. Honestly, she wasn't that pretty...I looked at pictures I took with my phone camera, and she's not someone that everyone would think is pretty. However look at that description; she was perfect in my eyes, and that description is how she came accross when I first saw her. So ladies reading this. Like I said...no matter what you look like, there is some guy who will see you as that perfect object of survival desire. Now THAT is beauty. I am sure a guy has seen you today and thought that.
This girl who came into Airimba..w e called her Lauren McHottie because we didn't know her name. Now this has happened several times in my life. I've seen the end-all girl. However all the girls I've met like this fall into one of the following catagories: 1) Dating someone else 2) Way out of my league 3) Off limits for varius reasons. And I hate that last one.
Okay, that's the first part of what I have to say about beauty. The second part I would like to say, I will say some time if I am feeling more bold.
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