Doing the Deed of Darkness was definitely on the agenda. :-)

In the weeks immediately before my trip, she asked me about my opinion about myself as a lover.

My reply:

"Dunno. Unless we're talkin' whackin' off here, (and I imagine if it's been three months you've had enough of that) sex is a team sport, typically with a two-person team, though you do get some options re: team size, if you like. :-)

So, I don't think "one" person alone can be good at sex, it's more a function of two people being good at sex with one another. With some women we've been good, with some we've been as boring as sex can get, which ain't very, if you're asking me, and with some we've been the best we ever had.

So, YMMV. :-)

I do get a few folks that like to play on my team, so I guess I do OK over there on my end of the seesaw.

Of course that's just my perception of the reality of the facts, so I might be all wrong.

I could be ol' NeedleDick the BugFucker, Willie the Wilted, or Hammerin' Hank the Steeldrivin' Man complete with a ten inch, Woman-Whacker con built-in French Tickler that slices, dices, chops, grates, vibrates, rotates, shoots flames and spins in circles, and a Pile-Drivin' Jackhammer Butt for slamming the W-W into you until your toes curl, your hair stands on end, your pudding starts smokin', and we wake the neighbors for ten blocks around when you cut loose with a whopper that registers about 8.3 on the nearest seismograph, triggering the Perfectly Timed Simultaneous Mutual Orgasm Sensor to activate the Super Power Ejaculator Module to blast you with blast that blows you out of the bed and through the wall like a ping-pong ball from a fire hose, leaving a cartoon style sexpot-shaped hole in the wall. :-)

Who knows? Only one way to know fer sure. As they say, the proof is in your puddin'. :-)

Problem is, altavista tells me you're 1145 miles away, which is about 1144 miles, 5,279 feet, and six inches longer than my Woman-Whacker, to the extent that my perceptions have any relation to the facts, so one of us is going to have to get on a plane, I think, if we're going to find out. :-)

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So, that ought to give us a good bit of leverage.

Here's what we tell them:

"Your nation is about twelve miles wide (at it's narrowest) and not two hundred miles long, about 27.7k km squared, fer Yahweh's sake; not even as big as New Jersey. We can drop your ass into any number of places - I think there are counties in Texas of similar size.

You like to live in the desert, evidently, and you like to fight. So, we'll move your whole country to say, Utah, and give you twice as much land as you have now. We'll double the amount of foriegn aid you get, and provide all the infrastructure needed for your people. Furthermore, we'll take the Wailing Wall, and any other relics, monuments, or whatever, pick them up and haul them off to your new lands. If we can move Abu Simbel and the London Bridge, you ain't got nothing we can't handle. If the Saudis et al don't like it, well, we can make them choke it down.

Now comes the like to fight part - we'll let you and the Mormons duke it out, of course, we'll have to arm them, too, (but prolly just a little bit, I don't think they have tanks). The Mormons can feel free to recruit from all the disaffected US militia types, so we can drain our domestic swamps, and kill two birds with one stone.

If you don't like that, you're cut off. Feel free to try to make it on your own. Good Luck, Mr Prime Minister."

Then let the Middle East sink under it's own weight, without having us to blame. Our policy would then become "We don't give a wombat's ass what goes on over there, so long as the oil keeps pumpin'."

This alone would scare the dogmeat out of the Saudis and Kuwaitis, among others, if we could get them to believe we'd just as readily pump oil from Saddam as the House of Saud. Maybe then they'd quit funneling moolah to the fundamentalist clerics that preach the doctrines that threaten them.

There are lots of other details - timetables and the like, to make it truly workable, but this is just a brainstorm, OK?

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