From: mloy@iupui.edu (Mark Loy) Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.written.robert-jordan Subject: Re: FAQ(With Updates) Flame Protection For Newbies/Idiots 100% Satisfaction Date: Tue, 05 Mar 2002 15:02:21 -0500 In article , umgerra0@cc.umanitoba.ca (Ken Gerrard) wrote: > Kenneth G. Cavness writes: > > >You, my dear deluded friend, have some damn strange opinions of what > >"love" is. > > I was referring to the self-congratulatory group love-in going on with > everyone jumping aboard to condemn the reposting. It's tiresome. Good call, Ken. High five! C'mon...everybody, high five! > Anyway, love is a fallacy created by lonely, deluded people and > perpetuated by Hollywood. Love is many, many splendored things, my melancholy friend from the north. Love is a handjob in the back of Chevy on a cold winter's night. Love is a marathon face-fuck till your tongue goes numb and your chin has ceased to be a viable part of your anatomy simply because they say, "I'm almost there!". Love is going out in a blizzard to buy someone a pint of Cherry Hagen Daas and a Massengale douche just so they can feel pretty. Love is wafer thin crepes filled with strawberries and whipped cream eaten while you masturbate on pictures of Gore Vidal. Love is thinking about the person you are schtooping while you are actually schtooping them. Love is agreeing to go to a Julia Roberts movie. Love is not cumming in their mouth unless asking permission first. Love is going to visit inlaws when they're not even sick. Love is buying someone a card for Arbor Day. Love is not caring if they fart. Love is listening to their "Air Supply" collection. Love is thinking about Joe Garagiola's harry-assed sphincter, dripping globs of lumpy corn-infested diarrhetic shit, while you fuck so as to prolong your arrival just a tad longer. Love is shining a light in the dankest, most slimy and treacherous crevices of their soul and not grimmacing at what you find lurking within even though it terrifies you beyond capacity for rational thought. Love is taping "One Life to Live" _and_ watching it with them. Love is Chuck Woolery. Love is being able to undress in front of them with the lights on. Love is letting them undress in front of you with the lights on. Love is letting them pluck your eyebrows. Love is a deep soul kiss, first thing in the morning, when their breath would kill a water buffalo at over a quarter of a mile away. Love is saying you're sorry and meaning it...a lot. Love is watching them eat oysters on the half shell without gagging. Love is wanting to die first. Love is holding them while they vomit. Love is wondering why they chose you. Love is rubbing their aching shoulders when all you want to do is have your aching shoulders rubbed. Love is not facing tragedy alone. Love is being free to be yourself. Love is...love is...love is all these things and more, Ken. May you someday find this out for yourself. ML