I have resolved to exercise great moderation for the next few weeks, and to earn whatever it is I'd like to drink, except perhaps a bottle off the shelf, and accompanied by some fine morsels of food, and perhaps consumed is relative comfort, though I would enjoy some sun on a beach, or in a park, or in the bush, or on a couch if the sun ain't out, or even in bed with a book to read, and a teddy to cuddle or something else, just as hope springs eternal so does the infernal things in man's life, and is why men ultimately take a wife, and learn that fishing and hunting and driving to golf, or a shed in the garden is better than strife, in the kitchen for forgetting to buy the flowers and the chocolate, for the smiling eyes and the hug and the kiss on the cheek when lips averted, tell a friend in need that his friend indeed would rather be loved, by an hungry lover and have it all over for the chance of a partner, though a lover and friendship may be quite exclusive, is the history of life that he then takes a mistress and releases her cougar, and all appears as normal as ever in an aging of dilemma of love lost and found in the beauty of a friendship laced in honest lust.
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