The power of Books? WTF?Follow

As some of the old lags here know. . .

a) I'm an avid reader
b) I like teh bewz
c) I'm happily single
d) I are a ugly cnut.

Having had a few days off to relax, I've spent some of the time indulging in one of my favoUrite pastimes. A stroll down to the beer garden of my local hostelry to enjoy a good book, a pack of smokes and a few pints of Guinness.

A few months ago I was partaking in this decadent distraction when a rather exquisite woman who'd been sitting at the next table excused herself for interrupting my reading, and enquired about my book (a crappy spanish cop thriller as it happened). Conversation ensued, followed by flirting and eventually an opportunity for her to admire the ceiling of my bedroom. Nothing further became of it, but it was a rather nice surprise to be chatted up (almost never happened to me before), and get laid with an extremely classy femme (yeah she's married, but I felt duty bound). We hook up every now and again when circumstances permit.

Since Friday I've frequented the local ale-house, book in hand every day (Richard Dawkins' 'The God Delsuion' - a real knicker-shifter obviously) , and been hit on twice. Both were (as we feminists say) "seriously doable". One went as far as mild flirting and an exchange of phone numbers (we'll see), while the other (last night) was an extremely pretty 30-something and the conversation resulted in me walking home at 8am today sniffing me fingers (if you know what I mean).

As many will attest, I'm not good looking, and have the morals of an Republican Senator (but in a heterosexualist, grown-ups-only way y'understand).

On the last of these occasions I asked the question "What made you come and start chatting to me?". Her response was that there was something alluring about a man sitting with an pint & an book.

My conclusion is that there's a smidgen of pity in there perhaps, but when the outcome is a night of gymnastic ruttage, I don't really give a hydrocephalic moose's lymph-gland.

So in conclusion, GFY.

Doesn't work for me.

You reckon 'New Zealand Pig Hunters' is the wrong sort of literature??



That brings back some happy memories of before the NHS went down the tubes and hospitals in the UK were full of student nurse totty with their own residential rooms on the hospital grounds. Many mornings, arriving at work in the operating theatre, the moment you put on a surgical mask, you'd remember what a good time you had had the previous evening. (if ya know what I mean)

Hobs Nobs mashed up and mixed with vanilla ice cream is pretty good.

FYI

There is something appealing about a guy reading a book.

1. It shows he can read, which in some of the more rural bits of the US is still not a given, and that he is willing to exercise that ability. Doesn't matter what the book is, as long as it's above an 8th grade reading level.

2. It shows he has a long enough attention span to sit and do something for a while. For a lady in the mood, this is pretty important.

You're an ocean away, and I already have my smart guy.

Sorry.

Fear not, Nobby. You get to look at Cat's cleavage for FREE!

Weeee!