Pulling Your Leg ©
By Michael Casey
We all love to laugh,
especially when times are bad, a joke lifts the mood and lightens the load.
There is even a term for it, Black Humour or Graveyard Humour, or even Gallows
humour. A laugh can break the ice when you don’t know what to say. I can remember
maybe 30 years ago in my computer room days when Richard came back after his
dad had died. He had a neckerchief on and I said he looked like one of the Rice
Chrispie kids, look at your cereal box and you see what I mean. It broke the ice
and we all moved on, we were all young lads so we didn’t say “we love you”, we
probably said it was his round next down the pub.
hug, a physical hug
does make a difference, we hug our kids when they fall over, we kiss our auntie,
or we break convention and hug our neighbour when they share their bad news. We
also hug when good news is shared. There is something special about a hug,
though the English are renown for their lack of public hugging and kissing. I
think we should copy the French and
Italians, I’m sure we are just as hot blooded as them, more so, they just boast
about it more.
We loving teasing those
we love, in fact it could be called proof of love, we wouldn’t tease a
stranger. A tease is something personal, we are making gentle fun of those we
love, it’s using insider knowledge to make somebody uncomfortable so we can
laugh at their expense. But it’s all done with love. Then you make up, or share
the sweets or cake afterwards.
A strip tease is
something else entirely, it’s a way of heightening sexual tension and arousal.
Either at a lap dancing club, or in the comfort and privacy of your own home or
bedroom. I am of course an excellent stripper, just imagine a Sumo wrestler
doing an ever so slow and seductive routine, I am Michael but I knock spots of
Magic Mike.
Though I should remind you to close your curtains or the neighbours
will be in for some sex education, and some Sumo wrestling moves with a bit of
Haka thrown in for good measure. Or I could just be teasing you, it’s all in
the imagination after all, 50 Shades of Michael’s Grey Hair could be the title
for my 11th book.
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