Quote:
Originally Posted by BDPpartner
I'm not sure why people behave in such a way but unfortunately people are not considerate of others feelings. But it's necessary to protect yourself when you are in the dating world but also when starting a new relationship. With regards to the lingerie although you clearly have the approval of several gentleman I would just remind you that while as a rule most men do find a lady in her best undergarments very alluring but there are some who would rather you were wearing your grannies best pants �� But its all part of the fun finding out your partners likes and dislikes ��
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You get the second hug I've given.
NOT TRUE... as (my) rule.
And... how about grandad's old and wholly Brooks Brother's Athletic t's?
Put grannies best pants on if you're going to the nursery for mulch.
Now
that's a pull off the road behind those bushes drive home!
Quite serious about that, BTW.
But you've heard from several yea-sayer's and a cautionary tale from the woman that I just fell in love with, so let me, the single male nay-sayer it seems:
Err cautiously. Unless you're prepared to be feeling all feminine and sexy only to be laughed out of the room, give BIG HINTS.
Unless you'd prefer a piece of chocolate fudge cake from Bob's Big Boy to a night of love.
Also BTW: almost everyone who knows me knows about me and the date at Bob's. Although the reviews are mixed, the idea that I acted rudely is almost unanimous. About 94%. The other 6% almost urinate in their seats. What the 94% can't seem to understand is that I had no choice. There wasn't a pause. She wasn't there, I looked over, and there she was and the laughter was out of my throat immediately. It wasn't a joke that required thinking. It was an instantaneous sight gag. The "mind stuff" wouldn't stop processing, even though I knew that it was wrong. One thing that kept going through my mind was that I had told this girl (who, incidentally, introduced me to my second great love) earlier in the week, I guess, that I didn't care for stockings or pantyhose. As I continued laughing I thought that there must have been some dreadful breakdown in communication.
Imagine the reaction if you're prepping for a night with your sweetie and he walks in dressed as a clown? How long will it take you to stop screaming and unload your bedside Glock into his chest before you realize what you've done? Then how long does it take you to stop screaming before you can get him to Bob's Big Boy and push him out into the parking lot?
It's the perfect metaphor:
Lingerie = Clown
Shock = Shock
Laugh = Scream
Keep Laughing = Keep Screaming & Shoot
Bob's Big Boy = Bob's Big Boy