Bad Company






It is with some regret and much relief that I have to announce the passing of my libido, my constant companion of more than half a century, who arrived one afternoon unannounced, without invitation, and simply refused to go away.

Initially he was an itinerant - peregrinatory, rootless (you might say), intermittent without intromission (you might add), which didn't make his turning up, frequently at quite inconvenient moments, any easier for a confused young teenage boy to deal with.


When we first became acquainted, our relationship was definitely that of master/servant, and he didn't brook any resistance. 

He gave the orders, and I, his not-unwilling henchman, carried them out.
With the passage of time an accommodation was reached and we became a close-knit team: me and my ephemeral companion - a spiv with a gold tooth, wearing a dinner suit.

Those days have passed now and in the past they shall remain, unforgotten but unmourned. 

And I wonder what the hell it was all about.

Rest in Peace, old friend.
We had some good times together.










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