Sometimes I think that if I had to choose between an ear of corn or making love to a woman, I'd choose the corn. Not that I wouldn't love to have a final roll in the hay - I am a man yet, and something never die - but the thought of those sweet kernels bursting between my teeth sure sets my mouth to watering. It's fantasy, I know that. Neither will happen. I just like to weight the options, as though I were standing in front of Solomon: a final roll in the hay or an ear of corn. What a wonderful dilemma. Sometimes I substitute an apple for the corn.

Even as your body betrays you, your mind denies it.

I had my whole life planned.. I knew exactly where it was taking me.

Hey! Shouts Camel. There ain't no woman in the world worth two bottles of whiskey!

I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin. I want.

I just can't. I'm married. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it.

Even when I look straight into the milky blue eyes I can't find myself any more. When did I stop being me?