Sit on my face

So as I delve further into The Unbearable Lightness of Being, I have discovered some more liitle beauties that run parallel to one's life.

1. The difference between the university graduate and the autodidact lies not so much in the extent of knowledge as in the extent of vitality and self-confidence.

2. Anyone whose goal is "something higher" must expect some day to suffer vertigo.

3. ...for Franz, love was not an extension of public life but its antithesis. It meant a longing to put himself up like a prisoner of war must give up his weapon as well. And deprived in advance of defense against a possible blow, he cannot help wondering when the blow will fall.

4. Culture is perishing in overproduction, in an avalanche of words, in the madness of quantity.

And so to the question that I posed to you in my last blog. The answer as we all know is...either. If I so happened to be fucking my girl, I wouldn't really expect eating a coffee soaked hob-nob to be high on my list of priorities. Though it could be used as a metaphor that could he high on Ly's. HA! Whereas, if it were late morning and I'm watching one of the many properyy shows that I invariably watch, a hob-nob and a cup of coffee would be great. Until I think of Ly's poontang and wank myself dry. It's all about context. Lesson over.