SEX ON THE BRAIN
There's a statistic informing us that men think about sex every few minutes during their waking hours. Honestly, I don't think about sex every few minutes (or even every few hours), but when I happened upon the following scene, 'impure thoughts' sprang to mind. I was in a coffee shop and...
.. an attractive girl in her early twenties was making coffee. She was from the far-East - possibly Japan - and she stood before the coffee range in an attitude of deference and concentration. Her shoulders were rounded and she appeared to give her full attention to the task in hand. She held a stainless-steel jug with both hands and slowly lifted it back and forth, sliding it up and down so the solid blowtorch penetrated the milk. She continued the momentum, with the heat pipe plunging in and out of the milk, until eventually it frothed and boiled.
Oh yes. So, perhaps it's childishness - in the same way that 12-year-olds (armed with the new and startling knowledge of where they came from) fixate on telegraph poles entering the earth, and pencils fitting into sharpeners, etc. Do we all, if we are honest, equate the sexual act with the stuff that surrounds us? Or is it just me?
There's a statistic informing us that men think about sex every few minutes during their waking hours. Honestly, I don't think about sex every few minutes (or even every few hours), but when I happened upon the following scene, 'impure thoughts' sprang to mind. I was in a coffee shop and...
.. an attractive girl in her early twenties was making coffee. She was from the far-East - possibly Japan - and she stood before the coffee range in an attitude of deference and concentration. Her shoulders were rounded and she appeared to give her full attention to the task in hand. She held a stainless-steel jug with both hands and slowly lifted it back and forth, sliding it up and down so the solid blowtorch penetrated the milk. She continued the momentum, with the heat pipe plunging in and out of the milk, until eventually it frothed and boiled.
Oh yes. So, perhaps it's childishness - in the same way that 12-year-olds (armed with the new and startling knowledge of where they came from) fixate on telegraph poles entering the earth, and pencils fitting into sharpeners, etc. Do we all, if we are honest, equate the sexual act with the stuff that surrounds us? Or is it just me?
