God’s Great and Holy Conundrum for Man
 
 
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Well, here I am. At Hastings again. Great coffee lounge; fireplace, couches, leather chairs, one of which I am now sitting, thinking about…you guessed it – women. 
I suppose it’s because I’ve been contemplating some of my former lovers, pondering those sweet memories when I dallied in, D’arte de L’amoure. I am waxing romantic, you might say. 
     Ahhh, to hell with it! 
Most of those memories are of some chick saying, “If you think I’m going to just sit here all night waiting for you to show up, then you better think again!” or “That’s all I am to you isn’t it – just a piece of ass,” or “You know, this relationship is going nowhere, I mean, are we going to commit to something or are we going to just hover?” 
     Actually, I kind of like hovering. 
I’m tellin’ ya,’ women are not normal. Oh sure, they make you think they’re normal; they do normal things, make normal statements, cry normal tears. But it’s all to fool us. Catch them when they’re changing into their human form, and you’ll never be the same! 
     Scary.
I had one tell me once, “We’ve been dating for almost a year now (it had been six months) so what do you think? Should we agree to see only each other?”
“Well,” I said, “We’re not married…I guess I can’t blame you if you wanted to date someone else. I have no hold on you.” 
     “So you’re saying we have a right to date whomever we wish?”
“Sure,” I said, as I looked upon her calm, sweet, and lovely face. 
“Okay,” she continued. “Let me just say this: I understand what you’re saying and I respect that, I really do.” Then her smile faded and a sincere look filled her beautiful eyes as she gently took my hand in hers. “I just want you to know, if I ever catch you with another woman, I’ll kill you.” 
Waiter, check please!
I don’t know, what do you do? I can’t wait to ask God what he was thinking when he made the lovely animals known to us as women. Don’t get me wrong, I love em.’ I want one. I’d like to have one of my own. I just don’t want to have to pay for it. And make no mistake, the cost is high! Financially, emotionally, testically. They wind up controlling most of your assets. I just don’t want to lose my assets. Not that they don’t have awfully nice assets of their own; some of them have amazing assets. Those assets tend to grow, too. And if you’re a frequent reader of my column, you know how I like those big assets. 
Anyway, I was just thinking of the dear, sweet little spawn-of-Satan demon-creatures lately. So, again the question: What do you do? A question that has plagued man for millennia. What do you do, indeed? 
I’ve got it. 
Simple. Go gay. That’s it! Question answered. Now all I have to do is find a guy with a vagina and breasts…uh…from birth. Plus, I’m a Christian; not that gays can’t be Christians, it’s just that I can’t be gay. Maybe if women weren’t so succulent, I could swing it. I mean, if I really put my mind to it, you know, really gave it my - uh...no, not even close.
No. When it comes to the beautiful little darlings, not much choice there. We’re stuck with them as they are. And dammit, I wouldn’t have it any other way!  In His sovereign wisdom God made them and I know He knew what He was doing. I mean, of course he did – He’s God for…for something’s sake. 
I just wish He would’ve made them with a shut off valve and reprogramming capabilities. 
Oh well, cest la vie.
I guess when I get to heaven I can ask God all of those elusive questions about the fairer sex.  
“Why,” I’ll say, “did you make them so stubborn, stupid, infantile, unreasonable, irrational, irritating, unyielding, and maddening?”
“Hold on,” He’ll say. “She asked first.” 

     Keck
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