When gods and men wrestled, fought, and fucked; and the offspring of their union was sometimes hideous, sometimes wondrous. Sometimes the Minotaur, sometimes Hercules. Win some, lose some, get mauled, raped, and eaten by some. Your love is the holding of hands, the peck on the cheek, the Cialis couple in matching tubs. Your love is the tepid treacle left on Oprah’s hanky.” “What the fuck?” “When was the last time your knickers got wet just because your man walked into a room?” “I don’t know. I don’t think like that.” “Why not? Where are your lady balls? You need to remember why you fell in
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