The pursuit of a woman's thighs. . .

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The pursuit of a woman's thighs has too many a time multiplied the ways in which a man can die from a bullet in the head, the anguish of disease right down to the slow and painful death by poverty.

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Fewer wars would have been fought in the past, fewer graves dug but each day a new pair is born and in days to come to ensnare the brute that lacks wisdom.

One pair suffices for each man yet the ways of the world are ridiculous and yet full of tears if not blood. Between love and lust even surgeons have often failed to cut the two asunder.

The warmth they bring is like the warmth of strong liquor, robbing a man of sound judgement and when sober brings the full reality of actions done in the pursuit of a woman's thighs.

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They said do not drink and drive but more dangerous was the pair exposed to the driver who when his mouth had drooled and laid his hands on it, got intoxicated that he lost the wheel of his very on life in the pursuit of a woman's thighs.

Here is wisdom for the young lad and the grey haired whose eye lingers as they seductively walk past him. If you would know greatness, keep a pair for yourself alone like Solomon said let it be that well that satisfies you alone. For it is not a pair you should seek but a heart in which God delights to dwell in.

And so it goes in the pursuit of a woman's thighs keeping the grave diggers quite busy indeed yet the same can be said of the pursuit of a man's wallet for there lies many graves indeed as well.

A penny for my thoughts and a copper for my advice if at all you see it's worth. 

by Simbarashe McNorris Hakata