THERE COMES A TIME - (sent to me by a friend - guest angry blogger)

Some time ago I promised to help a friend, who had confessed to me, that he had developed writer's block. He seemed to feel that he had run out of things to blog about and I argued with him that he was just tired as one could never run out of things to go on about.

     Now every few hours I try to analyze what I have heard, seen or been told about and I could write about nothing for hours. Maybe if I did this and achieved writer's block I would find my happy place and no longer have anything to complain about. Then again if I could not point out my laments, the rest of the world would have less to smile about as I try to accomplish my laments in a humorous way.

     Now on to something that has been a curse for all men of my generation and maybe those generations before mine and after as well. When it had become my time to leave the nest and go out and do my part to guarantee the survival and propagation of the species, I was ruled by a production of male hormones that would have me crawl of broken glass for miles to be with the one I loved. More times than not the crawl was a success and nothing more resulted. When I was married and had contributed the race's survival by fathering replacements for us, the young parents, I still had a lifetime to go.

     Unfortunately the hormones I had begun with had not diminished. Looking back I can honestly say that most of the disputes and disagreements were about my still wanting to propagate the race while my partner was on a different page. Now many years later there are no fights, disputes or disagreements but I no longer have the urge to pro create or perhaps have been trained through negative reinforcement to not care.

     It never seemed worth getting up early to go to work and bring home the bacon when I was tired and irritable but it would continue to happen into my forties. Somewhere in my fifties I do believe I just decided to think about everything else but procreation.

     So now when I go to bed, even though I am aware everything works and my hormones are in tact, I have now harnessed the power to make things disappear. So similar to Houdini, I can actually have wood disappear.

     As I lay in bed and hear my partner talking to our cat like it was a child I think to myself how backwards the world is. The cat purring incessantly and kneading her like a new born child, I smile and make my urges go away. It is not worth even speaking to her about as I would appear to be jealous. It just makes me smile when she asks me to ask the Doctor about hormones and male menopause because I no longer seem to be interested in sex....How can I ever tell her that it is not that purring pussy that I had gone to bed to see. By the time she has taken care of her little cat's needs I have fallen sound asleep un-bothered that her pussy has been taken care of, and no disagreement has been started.