Sex is a powerful word – and also a powerful act when done with the right person.
It has, however, been more than ten years since I’ve engaged in any horizontal folk dancing. These days I have no drive whatsoever.
I don’t think I’m one of those sexless people; I think it’s more a case of overdoing it in the ‘60s and ‘70s. Come to think of it, I was also overly active in the ‘80s too.
The first time my husband left me I had a one-week affair with a cutie. He was 10 years younger than me. Then I did the same with 90 per cent of the personnel in the company my husband worked with.
My husband came and went four more times after that and in the end I just went looking for anyone with a pulse. I was a woman scorned, I guess, after being dumped four times by the same man.
By the time I’d turned 50, the universe had decided to give up on me because my use-by date in the sex department had well and truly come and gone.
I guess I could go to the doctor and get some Viagra but that worries me as I am aware of how dangerous it can be.
A friend got a bit anxious at the thought of finally getting his lady friend horizontal so he popped a Viagra but started to choke. He had a stiff neck for days.
Strangely, I don’t miss sex at all. I can think of a million things I would rather do, such as having a boil lanced or eating excessive amounts of chocolate.
Maybe I have replaced sex with food, which would explain why I am having trouble fitting into my pants.
Seriously, I prefer the company of my dogs. They don’t judge me, they don’t care if my weight is up and bed hair is not a problem for them.
I can put the same meal in front of the dogs night after night and they are always excited to eat it. If I did that to my ex-husband, by night three he would say: “Not this crap again!”