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that bitch called friday

it begins with that day named friday, quite the enigma wouldn’t one agree? perchance a considerable numeric composition would concur if we tossed in the enigma mix a precise period- night.. yes now that is familiar territory for many a prowler. so the enigma that is friday night- wot to do, where to go, who to do? not in that particular order- of course, establishing the pecking order is left entirely to the ego of the prowler. and no this is not a male dominated enigma… the ratio, the decibel levels of comms, the financial implications, sexual charge of the atmosphere is- no lets expound and explore…

friday calls out to the yearning prowler like morning calls to the day, like a dark cloud to the release of heavy rain.. picture perfect, i think the point is reasonably attained. now, in a pub you can never get enough people in especially when the ratio of men to women is some 3 is 10 which is the normalcy of friday night. an experience with this ratio (or could that be defined as a ‘run in’ since ‘experience’ usually smacks of ill gotten endings) translates to bountiful prey, sadly though, for the male factor in the equation and well yes the female that bats for the other side.. cheers to the guy that figures out this is an opportune time to practice game and improve on the scalps and trophies because, yes, men do classify those conquests as such.. the forgettable scalps and memorable trophies. makes one wonder how women classify them if at all. make no mistake this ratio is not an intrusion but a careful balancing act that must be maintained, nurtured and much appreciated even if its a big game night.. nor is it in any way an interference like we’d courageously dismiss the decibel comms…

these levels to those who realised the art of war centuries ago and today have attained the sage status… need more be said? lest we forget it could be a cat fight- that chance of spotting the stray breastisis, the missing undies, wet t-shirt with beer spilt only on the pressure points…

that would do wonders for the stink of the air in that arena- that disgustingly delicious stink of SEX- so thick and inviting. pretentious drunken stupors and acted out binge drinking innuendos disqualify inhibitions because after its not a shy contest get your wild out memberships out! its a setup! do not dare forget how calculating you need be to survive in this arena… damn its the Colosseum all over again and gladiators galore going at it.. full sexual CHARGE!!! in roman and greek history generals would dominate their lieutenants and lesser officers by mounting them but in this arena do the right thing dominate the fairer sex only then do they call you brave and revered sir. trust. do not undo that phenomenal charge with impromptu ejaculations, drooling over the big titty waitress and the rest of that foolishness don’t lose sight of the prize! you do want to be a legend don’t you?

but that doesn’t give rise to the reason why my fellow comrades stretch the wallet… what is the rational behind letting in those disastrous financial implications simply because its friday night you need to get laid but do you need to be stranded too? be clever step up your game… after all, the great sage will know… game recognise game!

i know you are out there… been caught out… and its only friday night… what then becomes of your bitch called saturday?