wobbles
Well-Known Member
Re: We had oral sex 20 to 30 times..
You know, many men out there have ambitions to be successful in their careers ie "I wanna be a manager by 29, and a VP by 35 and CEO by 40" mentality.
Most men would also wanna accompany their work & career successes with the relevant status demonstrating these successes ie "I drive a Ferrari (I never say Ma Chi bye-bye) or I drive a Lambo (I also never say toto) or a MP4-12C (you know I never say S2k) or an M7 (no need to say)."
Finally, these same people (men, usually) will crave (and usually obtain) the influence and "respect" of their peers and colleagues and friends. These men will end up having a successful career, bucket loads of wealth and amass enough influence & power to completely fuse & blow out a USB port (I never say Brobot).
Very few of these men would ever rank their wife anywhere near as important as their other successes. Often, the wife is almost like an afterthought. Of course, I am not saying any of my BMW-SG brothers are like that (I state for the record – because I’m fearful of receiving a lawyer’s letter from Japan, I never say MW).
But, at the end of the day, when we draw our final few breaths, and we start to reminisce; I wonder how many of us would count our wealth, our fame, our fortune or our power as blessings.
And I wonder if any of us would then remember the selfless wife who toiled in the background to ensure our successes, who looked after our kids to ensure we had peace of mind at work, who supported us when our businesses initially failed to take off, and who attended court, stoically, day after day, as the sordid, lurid details of SP & DIY and BJ/BBJ/BBBJ are splashed out on the tabloids for all and sundry to gander and giggle.
For me, my frequent durian-shell-kneeling is to ensure I never forget the 20 years she sacrificed, to help me get to where I am today. I have to fight with her every time I think/talk/fantasize/PCC about getting a new car (the latest round is when I talked about upgrading from my CB to a PCCB – the fighting’s already begun, and I know she’ll win in the end).
But, she keeps me level headed, and keeps the same head from exploding - fueled on blindly by that otherwise masculine ego that, if left unchecked, would have fcuking blown my brains out like a Magnum .44 (or blow someone's ¢0£k to a happy ending - I never say Ng Boon Gay)
I’d rather metaphorically kneel on durian shells periodically, in the comfort of my own curtain-clad GCB (which I don’t have) than to have my face plastered all over the tabloid press because I forgot who was truly important to me in my life
C3P0;926157 said:
You know, many men out there have ambitions to be successful in their careers ie "I wanna be a manager by 29, and a VP by 35 and CEO by 40" mentality.
Most men would also wanna accompany their work & career successes with the relevant status demonstrating these successes ie "I drive a Ferrari (I never say Ma Chi bye-bye) or I drive a Lambo (I also never say toto) or a MP4-12C (you know I never say S2k) or an M7 (no need to say)."
Finally, these same people (men, usually) will crave (and usually obtain) the influence and "respect" of their peers and colleagues and friends. These men will end up having a successful career, bucket loads of wealth and amass enough influence & power to completely fuse & blow out a USB port (I never say Brobot).
Very few of these men would ever rank their wife anywhere near as important as their other successes. Often, the wife is almost like an afterthought. Of course, I am not saying any of my BMW-SG brothers are like that (I state for the record – because I’m fearful of receiving a lawyer’s letter from Japan, I never say MW).
But, at the end of the day, when we draw our final few breaths, and we start to reminisce; I wonder how many of us would count our wealth, our fame, our fortune or our power as blessings.
And I wonder if any of us would then remember the selfless wife who toiled in the background to ensure our successes, who looked after our kids to ensure we had peace of mind at work, who supported us when our businesses initially failed to take off, and who attended court, stoically, day after day, as the sordid, lurid details of SP & DIY and BJ/BBJ/BBBJ are splashed out on the tabloids for all and sundry to gander and giggle.
For me, my frequent durian-shell-kneeling is to ensure I never forget the 20 years she sacrificed, to help me get to where I am today. I have to fight with her every time I think/talk/fantasize/PCC about getting a new car (the latest round is when I talked about upgrading from my CB to a PCCB – the fighting’s already begun, and I know she’ll win in the end).
But, she keeps me level headed, and keeps the same head from exploding - fueled on blindly by that otherwise masculine ego that, if left unchecked, would have fcuking blown my brains out like a Magnum .44 (or blow someone's ¢0£k to a happy ending - I never say Ng Boon Gay)
I’d rather metaphorically kneel on durian shells periodically, in the comfort of my own curtain-clad GCB (which I don’t have) than to have my face plastered all over the tabloid press because I forgot who was truly important to me in my life
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