Summer, what a hoot. Young men everywhere twist themselves into pants that prevent blood from circulating. If it is a part of the courting game or an attempt to crush the life out of any would be baby, is up to the individual to decide. What remains true is that summer is an awful awful, time of year.
Now the observant reader might be compelled to say ”You are still young, you like women, there are tons of them around during summer” and yes I do appreciate some candid reality. You might call me a bon vivant, when it comes to taking in the sight of tan 20’ies something women, baring more or less everything, such is the way of modern bikini fashion, less is more. Or so it seems, judging from the fire-red faces of every male here, they may think themselves as master tacticians ”Surely my sunglasses are a magical device that lets me creep on everyone, whilst I, to the naked eye, look as if I am reading Keats, Burroughs or Keruoac”. Such is the sad, sad reality, any given summer, anywhere in the world.
But no, no I tell you.
An idiot cooking 