Exhibitionists

 

When you have got it, flaunt it! Step right up and strut your stuff. ♫

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Painting by Fernando Botero

There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that most women are exhibitionists. When they have got it, they definitely want to flaunt it.
Even when they don’t quite have it, they still crave attention. They try (not very hard) to make you believe that it is not so, but we are wise to their wicked ways.

Facebook (or any social media) is a prime example of my assertions. It is full of women’s selfies provocatively showcasing their assets.
I am not against it mind you for you cannot look a gift horse in the mouth.

I imagine by the way, the frustration of some Muslim women who would love to emulate their western sisters, but can’t. I am surprised that more of them have not rebelled against their oppressors and burned their bras (or whatever garment they would burn).

They ought to sneak a pick at the history of suffragettes! In my humble opinion, what the Middle East needs (much more than 110 billions worth of armaments) is a Joan of Arc, Elizatheth Cady Stanton or a Gloria Steinem.

Women, over the centuries have perfected the art of seduction. They have weaponized just about every part of their bodies to coyly ensnare their quarry. And they dutifully transmit all their knowledge to their progeny.

Bosom and caboose have always been women’s primary weapons but nails, eyelashes, lipstick, hair are also part of their stealthy arsenal.

Men have been slow to follow the trend. Granted, they are starting to get manicures, wear makeup and don earrings but they are far behind the women in this strategic field.
Some guys can also be exhibitionists but they don’t have enough material to seriously compete with women.
Bodybuilders are an exception. Regardless of the weather, they always wear short sleeves garments to emphasize their bulging muscles. But this is pretty crude.

It takes more than muscles to seduce a woman, or so I believe. Intellect (or if you come short in this filed, hard cash) can be as much an aphrodisiac as six-pack abs.

So, while exhibitionism might be frowned upon, I am no Tartuffe. It is not beneath me to appreciate whatever body parts women choose to put on display.

Alain

MRI story

 

What can you do when encumbered with a persistent backache problem? Pills? Patches? Acupuncture? Physical therapy? This is what thousands of people (myself included) are asking themselves every day.
Pills and transdermal patches offer only temporary relief, so what else could be done? Fringe medicine? Shamanism?
I struggled with this conundrum for quite a while.

The main question you should ask yourself before seeking any treatment is: what is causing the problem and what would be the best treatment. Personally I would be partial to osteopathy… or maybe a series of Nuru massages to alleviate the pain. What? It is a recognized therapy…

My doctor, unable to provide a clear diagnosis, suggested trying an MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) procedure, a medium designed to show detailed pictures of the human body. It seemed to make sense. So after a little computer-driven investigation, I booked an appointment with my care provider.

There are 2 important things you should know about an MRI. It can be very expensive and if you are the least bit claustrophobic it could be a very stressful experience.

Upon my arrival to the hospital, I was asked to disrobe down to my skivvies and invited to put on a unisex patient gown. Two burly men then led me to the site of my execution.
I was ordered to lie down on my back on a narrow metallic bed, fitted with earplugs and given a handheld alarm switch to stop the treatment if I felt any discomfort or anguish. I was then stuffed into a narrow cylindrical tube that hardly seems large enough for a person and regaled for about 20 minutes to loud dissonant noises.

Fortunately I am not claustrophobic. I just closed my eyes and let my mind wander.

The session felt like a combination of a cannabis influenced episode and watching an old Frankenstein movie at the same time. What were these people doing to me? Would I wake up a different person after this experience? A Trumpist maybe… blistering barnacles!

After 20 minutes of this cacophonic symphony I was extricated from my narrow mineshaft and set free.

Now experts have to scrutinize the MRI images and tell me what could be done to restore my body to its prime condition.

I am breathlessly waiting for results. You will be the first to know.

Alain

 

Ingratitude


He, who does not thank for little will not thank for much.
Estonian Proverb

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 A few days ago, a friend of mine who had been mentoring a younger person for about 2 years, was snubbed by his mentee. He was not asked to attend a significant celebration hosted by his protégé.

Ignoring past favors is not nice. As a matter of fact, it is downright insensitive and discourteous.
A cashed favor is akin to a friendly loan. There is no deadline, but the favor should never be forgotten. Ignoring this basic principle  makes you a welsher, a person never to be trusted again.

Trust is essential in a civilized society. You need to trust your bank, your cops, your judges, and above all your friends. By failing to acknowledge past favors, you will alienate people close to you and ruin many relationships.

When doing a good deed you should not expect a reward, but it does not mean that the Good Samaritan should be discarded like a Kleenex after use.

When I was younger, I remember reading a fable by Aesop called Androcles and the Lion. In short, Androcles, a runaway slave, helps a lion in distress. The lion doesn’t forget and later on spares his benefactor’s life.
It is a naïve little story but it conveys the right message. A favor freely granted (no matter how small or old) can yield surprising results.

Since I am a strong believer of Karma, I am convinced that “what goes around comes around.”

So, watch out you ungrateful SOB’s out there, Karma is watching.

“She is just sharpening her nails and finishing her drink. She says that she will be with you shortly.”

She will appear when you least expect it, and she won’t be smiling.

Alain