|NEVER SAY Just is available HERE!|
Good morning Decadent readers!! I have a problem. My muse has run off with the milk man. As a result I cannot string two words together let alone write a coherent blog post. So, I’ve decided to let my favorite character take over today. He kind of has a one track mind and that track usually runs right across a woman’s….well you get the idea. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Horndog.
Good morning, my minions!! I would have posted a whole lot sooner, but Harper wouldn’t let me post without her approval so I had to wait for her to get home from getting her nails done. They look great by the way, red with sparkles. Gots to love a woman with long red nails. There is nothing better than feeling a woman claw into your…..sorry, I got sidetracked. Anyway, here’s my first Daily Dose of Decadence post.
I love women. I love all women. They could be short, tall, thin, curvy, it doesn’t matter I love them all. They’re all a gift from God. I don’t understand why some women are single. I don’t care what you look like, every woman has a mysterious power over men in general. When a woman focuses that power and unleashes it on one man, that man has absolutely no hope. You see, I’m a man, and as a man I know that I am completely helpless when a woman bats her eyes at me. Her mother could be a cave troll but if that woman makes me think she’s going to let me into the holy of holies, I’m all hers.
The problem is women have completely unrealistic standards. They all dream of a knight in shining armor riding in on a clear war horse, the knight picking that woman up with one hand, throwing her on the back of his saddle, and riding off into the sunset. Here’s the problem with that. If a guy actually did that, most women would look at him and say, “Seriously. What? Are you LARPing?” Then the guy would feel totally emasculated and left wondering where he went wrong. I’ll tell you where he went wrong. He went wrong when he bought that damn suit of armor and rented the freaking horse!! He should have just walked up to the girl at work and said, “Hey, you wanna get a drink?” Does he do that? NO! You want to know why? Because he knows you have these completely ridiculous fantasies! In his mind he thinks he has to pull off some sort of taking the one ring to Mt Doom epic quest just to get you to notice him.
Once you do actually give the poor guy a chance he thinks he has to make your life a romantic comedy starring Meg Ryan. He thinks he has to just know when you’ve had a crappy day without you saying a word. He thinks he has to guess what your favorite food is. He thinks he’s supposed to know by the mystic vibes you’re giving off if it’s OK for him to kiss you. So the whole time he’s trying to read your mind and he’s just hoping and praying that your mind isn’t speaking Wookie.
It’s not easy ladies. You’re always talking about men not sharing their feelings. You want to know why they don’t share their feelings. They’re to freaking busy trying to decode yours! We know that we get one chance, one chance to trick you into going to bed with us. And trust me, that IS every man’s ultimate goal. If we screw up that one chance, if we pick the wrong restaurant, we know we’re going to be in the penalty box for at least four more dates. You think you have it rough trying to decide which dress shows just the right amount of cleavage to say you’re giving him a shot but you’re not showing him all the goods at dinner. Try sitting across from that! Throw us a bone ladies! Have the balls to just come right out and say what you want. It’s simple, you say, “Horndog, I don’t like you and I don’t dislike you. I’m willing to give you a chance. I like flowers. I hate teddy bears. I like Chinese. I hate Italian. You won’t get lucky on the first date, but if I go out with you few more times you probably will.” It’s that easy. No one gets hurt. No one is making wild ass guesses. No one goes home thinking they were wronged by the love gods. And guys don't waste three month’s salary on medieval battle wear.
Horndog is a character in the novel by Katie Harper, Never Say Just.
Katie Harper started writing when two people showed up in her head and wouldn't leave until she told their story. They had a party, invited a few friends over. Now she spends her days doing the bidding of imaginary people. She lives in a city made for sin on the edge of a desert with her daughter, no pets and enough lemon bundt cake to feed a refugee camp.