Salvio, no matter how many times you hear "Salvio, you're gorgeous", you will always want to hear it more and over and over again... because your vanity is the biggest kick you get in life.
Try diverting your interests, like into art, photography or writing... you could make sculptures, or tapestry, or macrame or something. Anything to take your mind off off of yourself.
But if you find all the photos you take are of yourself, or all the sculptures you sculpt are your craven images, etc., (and they become each your Galatiae, like to Pygmalion), then you could start maybe volunteering for a hospice or a funeral home, or get involved in third world improvement projects, or some other philanthropic activity, to get you out of your rut.
There is a chance that less pleasant hobbies, such as stepping on toes in a bar or mooning German tourists in their passing-bye tour buses will be healthier for you than what you do now to yourself.
From what I heard about Aussies this area is even too small for one person. More than 2 people per hundred thousand square kilometres is a crowd, according to Aussie standards according to what I heard.
You heard about the two Aussies who kept on stepping on each other's toes every morning on their walkabouts? Poor souls, they had to share 30583l58 hectares of sand land.
You heard about the two Aussies who wanted to form a government? They could not hold an election because nobody could count that high to read all ballots.
ETC.
A woman in Perth with titties that're perth would be preferrable over Adele with AID in Adelaide. A Brisk Dame in Brisbane would be preferrable over a malborne woman from Melbourne.
Choose your weapons and your women wisely. They can all backfire if you are not used to handling the kind you pick. A woman from Darwin will never evolve, and a woman called Sidney from Sidney is very likely a drag.
To the LonelyINAfrika: Yes, time well and wisely spent.
I met one lady who had a great dog, and another lady who lived right beside the coffee shop in town. She had these cards that entitled the patron for one free coffee after nine paid ones. Well, a lot of patrons just threw the cards away, and the lady and I used to collect them, and go on coffeine binges. Free coffein binges. The best relationship I have ever had. We were both always wired.
That was about that, i lived in a small town.
I live in a bigger town now. I met this lady in real-time, and we've been dating. She's everything i could ask for and then some. She's much better than what I deserve. She agrees, but she says she's in love with me... I am just extremely lucky, I guess.
If I took a lie detector machine to a date, then I could say I'm an FBI agent, or a CIA inquisitor, and the machine would start to rattle immediately. Or maybe not. You wouldn't know either way.
That's why I never say on the first dates what I do for a living, how come I am in this country, and what I had just smoked before the date.
I would, if I were you, pretend you like some of these older and older men... reel them in, really slow, and when you go them wrapped around your finger, wham, go and swoop down and grab their young, like the mighty Bald Eagle does, and the young should be exactly your age.
Shaving your head to achieve this purpose is optional. I wouldn't recommend it.
I had lost my last girlfriend to a break-up sixteen years ago. I then joined all kinds of dating sites, mostly free ones. Sixteen years I flew solo. The closest I ever got to six in those years was shaking hands with women. I think I felt 13 bottoms on the sly, brushed against 5 breasts, and stole two or three kisses. That, in sixteen years, after having retired from the battle field of guerilla warfare as a sixual revolutionary.
I reached sixty last year. I wrote to my brother and sister whether they heard of anyone finding love after sixty. Both wrote back, with encouraging news: my sister's mother-in-law moved in with a guy when she was seventy, and my brother's best friends had each found a gf after 64.
A month later I asked a pretty looking woman at a yard sale, "would you like to go to breakfast with me?" and she came, and we've been dating ever since.
She's normal, and in love with me, I love her as much as I am capable, but it's not much, because I am insane.
But she's so nice with me and so good to me and for me that I decided she's a keeper. God only knows what she sees in me. It's a miracle. Sometimes I think an unknown benefactor of mine pays her well to imitate love for me. She denied that (I asked).
So there... what are you, Rog, 35, 45? Big deal. The important thing that I learned is to look for the good in people, and not to be critical for your own sake. And it helps if you find the one person on the globe who thinks the world of you.
OP, if a precious friend leaves you, the best things to do are the following:
- be perplexed and astonished - forever wonder why they left you - forever hanker for their friendship back - walk around like a zombie and accost every person with the same questions - be all-consumed by your loss - always look back.
Most of the small vessels in a man are situated in his Pnis. Which means it must be that part of his body that makes him go 'round the world several times.
In fact it's that part of his body why he does ANYthing in life. If he had nothing there, where it actually is, then he'd never get out of bed.
He was also very short. (4'8".) That's why he insisted everyone calls him "the Great".
Napoleon and Julius Caesar were also short. So was Genghis Khan. And the Buddha. Jesus was apparently of normal height (5'2". Normal in his days.) Seneca, a Roman senator, was, on the other hand, 6'9" (2 metres tall). Socrates had an IQ of 193, and George W. Bush, 42. He can't even open a door.
Vladimir Ilyich Lenin, the mastermind behind the bolshevik revoltution, had had more women than Mick Jagger. Well, maybe not more, but more Russian lady tennis players, and those top it all.
Katherine the Great, another Russian totalitarian ruler, had had more men in her bedchamber than my ex lover Ruth P. But Ruth is alive, so she still has time to catch up to Yekatyerina (as K.the G. is called in Russian).
Rasputin had more influence on Russian domestic and foreign policy than the pope has the same over Vatican.
My biology teacher tells us a group of women is a cackle. She said a group of girls is a giggle, and a group of gay people is a quary. A group of adolescent or pre-adolescent boys is a lot of footstink.
A bunch of Jews is a Jewry. What is a country then?
When my friend Paul finally met my new girlfriend, who was much older than I, (and much better looking, too!!) I asked him, "yeah, but even you can't deny she is well-preserved", and Paul replied, "yeah... but so are dead frogs sitting in a formaldehyde solution."
He was easiest the funniest man I've met. And she was the most gorgeous of the women.
Love is sweeter the second time 'round Coz she aint no more so round She has lost those pound Before she'd again come 'round.
Well... depends what she looks like now. Just because she is an old flame, it does not give her any forerights. She has to come in on the ground floor just like everyone else. Equal-opportunity opportunity. Merit-based, no nepotism, no favouritism. Past experience does not guarantee future rate of return. Returning girls join the queue at the end, no pushing, everyone wait their turn. One per customer, no rain checks, no returns!! This last bit is especially important. Ie. keep the stuff, please.
Maybe some people don't even realize there is controlling happening in the relationships they are in... and they don't care if there is any, as long as both partners are happy.
"Controlling" sounds like such a dark, bad, foreboding word... but it's actually not necessarily negative. You can control someone for his or her betterment very easily and it goes on more of the time than anyone could realize in a relationship. "Honey, please pick up some milk and honey on your way home." That's control. "Honey, could you please pass the salt?" That's control. Mild and minuscule control, but control none the less. "Shut up or else I kick your headlights in" is not control, only an attempt at control, because even if the man or the woman says this, this does not stop the other from screeching. Attempt and failure at control is not control.
But how do you do that? In my entire life, in any relationship, either I was controlling my partner or she was controlling me. There were neutral times, like watching a movie or when sleeping in bed (sleeping, not forknicating), and even in love making I was controlling when I was on top, and she was controlling when she was on top.
Things got even more complicated... when control has been given over to the partner, for the partner only to realize that only the appearance of control has been passed... and the master manipulator was making me believe that I was in control, whereas I was only doing her bidding. Mind you, doing her bidding was pleasurable. Doing her bidet was not.
Or... or... when control is not given, but taken... like when she lost her will to live as we drove to Hamilton, and i had to wrestle the streeing wheel and the break pedal away from her, in order for the two of us to survive.
Or when to take control... when the cops stopped us on our way to Lake Louise from Calgary, and I was beside myself, because I come from a communist country, and people in uniform give me the heebee-jeebees, and she took control and was sweet to the cop and said we were not the couple in the orange-coloured station wagon that was terrorizing the road.
Oh... control... passportkontroll, bitte.
Control yourself, my sweet love. <- boy did I keep on hearing this a lot.
Yes, at this time it is possible that someone will be willing to change for you if they like you so much.
But be careful: they won't change. They will be WILLING to change, but that does not change the thing that they can't change. Change does not depend on willingness to change. Change they will, but won't.
This is difficult. Imagine you have a puppy. You love it so much that you want it to change into a human. The dog is also willing to change. Will the dog change? No. Despite willing to change.
There was a legend in Greek Mythology that a guy sculpted the image of a beautiful woman. The sculpture was so very beautiful, that the sculptor fell in love with this stone sculpture of his.
So he wanted the sculpture to change into a living being.
The sculpture was willing to change, for a new hair cut and some lottery tickets.
Eventually the Gods of the ancient Greeks heard his pleas and prayers, and responded to it by changing the sculpture into a real, flesh-and-bone woman.
This was the story of Pygmallion, the Scultor.
3000 years later a British playwright wrote a similar story, a bit more realistic: an academic elite gets a street girl who had lived in poverty and speaks uneducated Inglish only, to live with him, (no hanky-panky), and he teaches her the ways of the highest echelons of the British class society patterned on feudal dependencies. The girl DOES CHANGE, and in the end, the academic, who incidentally is made of money as well, marries her.
This was more a fable of mocking the British aristocracy, telling them that their ways were empty, their snobbery was not based on merit, because their pride, the only thing that separated them from the masses really, apart from their money, was only in a fleeting, superficial, saccharine-sweet thin veneer of behaviour and usage of Inglish, which any last street-sweeper could easily make his or her own.
I met two local women off of this site. One was 49% real, and the other, well, she had such a rich personality, that her real + her fake added up to more like 359% in total, instead of the usual and customary 100% as one ought to reasonably expect of any and all.
This is why I use childsoftware services. Instead of getting a woman pregnant and paying through my nose, I run this program and it simulates childrearing. In week one, I don't get any sleep, because the compute whines and wails every two hours. At age twenty i have to pay tuition, at age 13 braces for the teeth, at 3 some gummy bears for playtoys, etc.
What if there are two gods, exactly alike? Would you be able to tell the difference?
If you can't tell the difference between one god alone or twenty-seven gods all alike, then how can you be sure there is only one god?
The scriptures were dictated by one god. But that is not proven, a, and b, other scriptures exists which were dictated by other gods. You believe in the god that dictated one single scripture. Why do you insist that that's the only true scripture? There is nothing that says so, outside that scripture. It's like asking the butcher in front of you where you can buy the best meat in town.
Many scriptures exits... many gods exists. Each god dictated his or her own scripture. It is silly to say that your god is alone, if you base your calculations on his being the only one in the scripture he dictated. Since you believe that that scripture is truth, and the only reason you cite is that it's true because god dictated it, then all other scriptures must be true, because they were also dictated by gods who say their version of creation and stuff is true.
There is no discernible difference in the validity between what your scripture claims and what any other scripture claims.
I appreciate you chose a faith and you stick with it. That is very predictable, and almost all humans do that. You have to do better than that to make some waves... doing what everyone else does, does nothing for your fame or for your god's.
Archeologists unearthed the first edition of "Book of Love". It was authored by several drunken sailors, dressed in monkey suits, and brandishing bandanas from top to bottom, back in the time of Homer, as a joke to play on Aphrodite.
petofisandor Forum Posts (40)
RE: Am I handsome?
Salvio, no matter how many times you hear "Salvio, you're gorgeous", you will always want to hear it more and over and over again... because your vanity is the biggest kick you get in life.Try diverting your interests, like into art, photography or writing... you could make sculptures, or tapestry, or macrame or something. Anything to take your mind off off of yourself.
But if you find all the photos you take are of yourself, or all the sculptures you sculpt are your craven images, etc., (and they become each your Galatiae, like to Pygmalion), then you could start maybe volunteering for a hospice or a funeral home, or get involved in third world improvement projects, or some other philanthropic activity, to get you out of your rut.
There is a chance that less pleasant hobbies, such as stepping on toes in a bar or mooning German tourists in their passing-bye tour buses will be healthier for you than what you do now to yourself.