Numbers

So I was talking to the gals the other day.... and it was that age old chat about how many is too many. People to sleep with I mean. And the double standards. When a man informs you that he is almost into triple figures, you gasp a bit and then laugh. When a woman informs you of the same fact, why do we gasp and then think 'tad slutty'. Is it because as a woman, the majority invest quite a lot of emotion into sex? And you wonder how much emotion have you lost by sharing it with half the world?

And I've come to the conclusion that there is no 'acceptable' number - if indeed you can remember your number. If you are happy, then be happy. I've also come to the conclusion that EVERYTHING is a 'memory maker' and when you can sit in  your rocking chair age 90 and go 'well back in 1991, there was this one boy..and in 2003 I met this chap.', then you have lived and living is good.

While I'm thinking and typing, isn't it also a bit rude to ask 'numbers' of people? And maybe it's better not to know, I'm not sure I want to share my body with someone who's been around all the blocks twice. Yes for sure, they're probably damn good at what they do but in all other areas of my life, I thrive on the unique experience, not one where half the town goes 'oh yeah, I did that'.

Mind babble over...