Ah, the fruits of the sexual revolution are sweet, aren't they?Today, nobody spends the time to really get to know a person get to find out if they are someone to whom they can and should commit themselves. No, following the siren call of the 60's and 70's, you just jump into bed with what ever slithers up to you. Then, too late, you find out they are human debris and you are left diseased, broken hearted, bitter, lonely, or sadder, but no wiser. Bon Appetit.Enjoy the poison my generation left for you. You are to [sic] stupid to see that it is poison.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Where are the nice guys?
Non-medical, I know. A fascinating post over at Dr. Helen explores the question. Short version: women send confusing messages by choosing jerks while lamenting the shortage of “nice guys.” A gem from the comment thread: