dear John

John,
I should be in advertising...i've envisioned a line of commercials starring a charismatic, well-sexed bonobo. The tag line would be...wait for it..."Bonobo Knows". We could get Sheen to play the bonobo (not Charlie, Martin). Or Rachel Weisz, someone like that.
I've heard that cold showers have the opposite effect. Doesn't sound right.
There is NO current interest in biblical de-bunking over here. If you were more obsessed with my writing (and for corn's sake, who wouldn't be?), you'd know that. The R.P.G.B entries are a book i wrote fifteen years ago. I'm editing and posting the good ones. The motivation is partly to have more stuff to post...feeding the cricket, as 'twere. Did you ask that question because something seemed "off" in them? Well-sniffed.
As for your NM friend, it reminds me of my perhaps more-desired blog title, which is probably too wordy - Irejectthepremise.com. That seems my response to an inordinate percentage of the things that pour out of people's mouths. Your rejected premise is the compulsion to "mate, pair off"...blah blah. Tyranny, sir!
But i find i can't entirely back that up...nor do i think your intention was anything so pedestrian as i just painted it. Bring hither fair maiden! She may sit on my lap whilst i plumb her spirit on matters of existential import! If that goes well, she can move on to string theory.
Joking aside, if you ever want to send some appropriate posts to a female within this particular context, try:
http://nakedmeadow.blogspot.com/2008/02/whats-wildflower.html
http://nakedmeadow.blogspot.com/2008/02/natural-woman.html
I'm free and footloose...i did go traipsing off to FL recently on less of a romantic pretext than the one you offer. Age difference...yes, i only date women who were born within five hours of 7:31AM, May 18 1968. Perhaps six hours, but only if she's an olympic athlete/comedian.
As for your romance self-calculus, i run similar numbers on myself...and even in a city of five million women, it still comes out pretty hellaciously grim. Perhaps you and i shall have adjoining huts on the Island of Misfit Toys. We'll grow plum tomatoes and play mancala.
I fasted once. Felt hungry.
It's tempting to leave it at that, for humor's sake, but...i'm very much a sensualist. Food is like sex to me. And since if you don't eat for eight days, you die, WHY would i offer up the first day free, to the Falwells and purple dinosaurs and unplanned 8.9 earthquakes that seek my demise???
In a less silly vein, i might give it a whirl again someday, if properly motivated.
Now sir, my Ladd sci fi is gathering dust here. Tut tut. What is this new work direction of yours (or is it more compelling in the abstract)?
-wrahb