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Follow Up On Romance and Traumatic Brain Injury

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Okay, so I wrote the article about how the hippocampus completely ruins a first impression or a budding relationship.

In this second installment, I figured that I would mention how I try to accommodate for this shortcoming.  I sincerely ask for feedback from female readers, not only for myself, but also for other dudes who experience the same difficulty that I do.

When I meet a woman whom I find attractive, I don’t look there.  That’s a good way to die-slowly!

No, I notice her hair, her eyes, her neck, and believe it or not (you can call me a crazy motherfucker if you want, but I don’t give a shit), her feet.

A lot of Americans view this as perverted.  However, the feet of a woman are actually very highly ranked.  Would you want to know how many guys go for a woman’s feet?

Surprise, surprise!

 

More proof

Ladies-and especially you CHRISTIAN GIRLS, here is the Ace of Spades:

King Solomon was a foot man.

When did I figure out that I liked them?

I remember one summer day in Van Nuys, California in 1975 when we had a family picnic.  I remember that I liked the neighbor girls next door (one a year older and one a year younger than I was).  However, I remember looking over my shoulder, and I saw these two girls who must have been at least ten years older than I was, walking away from me, barefoot in the grass.

I was so motherfucking spellbound that I realized I had an accomplice (in a manner of speaking).

I was five-years-old when I figured this out.

I’ve never been shy about it.  When women tell me that I’m weird, I respond by asking: “Would you rather I ask to see your tits?”

“Hm.  You’ve got a point there, because I’d kill you.”

“Exactly-and that’s not how I want to go out.  I’d rather go out taking a turn too fast at over 100 mph and flipping my car before it burst into flames rather than get killed for asking to see something which I have no right to see yet.”

Some women don’t mind-especially the way I bring it up.  One time I said to a married woman, “If your husband doesn’t massage those lovely peds every night, I can give you my number.  They’re beautiful.”

That actually made her day.

And when it comes to this subject, I’m never the submissive.  I’m the conqueror.

So, ladies, tell me what you think once you click on those links.  Dudes like me are more common than you realize.  One thing I can tell any female for certain.   She would know what I’m thinking by how I do what  do and the women who have allowed me the privilege have always enjoyed, so don’t think less of a guy who wants to express his feelings by worshipping your feet.  It means that he loves you and views you as a goddess.

Dudes, don’t be a fucking pussy.  I can tell you from experience that you’re more likely to get a smile from a woman if you compliment her toes than if you ask for the mountains or the fountain.

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One thought on “Follow Up On Romance and Traumatic Brain Injury

  1. I have horrible feet. Too many broken toes and years of working on my feet in bad shoes have taken their toll. But as a woman, I think any body part you are sincerely attracted to is fine with me. Everybody had that one body part that does it for them. I’m attracted to a man’s hands. The way they look, how men use them when talking, how they rest them when they are not moving. I’m fascinated. I find them the sexiest part of a man. I don’t worry if someone finds it odd, because that’s my thing. And if feet are yours, more power to you! We all got to be true to ourselves. And that isn’t anyone else’s business but yours.

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