Tuesday, July 13, 2004
SEX LIFE
Hans and Margarita are two squirrels in the forest (one male and one female). They were still kids when they got married. It’s unclear if it was because squirrels have short lifespans, such that they never had the time to fully grow up, or perhaps they never really wanted to grow up in the first place. The two kids obvioulsly never had premarital sex, and even after the wedding, it was still infrequent. They were happy when they were together. Hans always laid his head on Margarita’s big tail, uttered “I love you” and fell asleep. Margarita, meanwhile, used the agile and hairy tail to brush his chubby face, and even swept him up and down once a while. She could feel Hans’ nose blowing into her hair. They were too happy to need sex.
“But when people get married they always have a sex life,” said Margarita to Hans. “Fine, we can try that too.” Hans was even willing to hold Margarita forever in his arms, but he never had strong urges to have sex with her. He always gave the impression of having never gone through puberty completely. Although, Hans had a another idea—-wouldn’t it be great to have a kid with Margrita? They are kids themselves, and kids often want to have a few more playmates.
Hans made money and took care of the housework. He never got exhausted, and easily kept everything in order. Every time he cooked he always showed his infinite inventiveness. He tried to mix up different sauces, but most of the times it was a disaster. Luckily Margarita’s main interest was junk food, therefore she didn't mind as much.
What else could she do besides eating junk food? Didn't make any money or do any housework? She’s an artist! She used up all her youthful passion on the canvas. Her favorite subject was herself, because she felt that she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Hans wanted to be her model, but she wanted to wait until he’d grown up. Hans was always upset when she said that. He knew he’d probably never grow up.
Plus, he knew maturity and materialism had a subtle relationship. If he grew up, Margarita might like him more, but he might’ve not liked himself as much. It’s important to note that Margarita didn't like materialism either. She liked mature, cool beauty. Artists only cared about beauty.
Though Margarita didn’t make a salary, whenever she sold a painting, she’d become ecstatic for a long while. She’s a great painter, and Hans usually appreciated it. But once his hands was under his chin and said sternly, “your painting lacks something...suffering.” “But baby, my dear Hans, how can I suffer when I’m with you.” Hans contemplated briefly and said, “You could...poverty, lack of sexual satisfaction..” “Yes, you are a bit on the small side, you should exercise more.”
In actuality, Hans exercised a lot. When he went to work, he never walked on the ground. He always jumped from one tree to another.
Sometimes he got a ride from a big bird, but that’s more for the purposes of finding other beautiful squirrels in the forest. He used to be shy, but for some reason, he had more guts to smile to unknown females after getting married. Hans knew he couldn’t tell that to Margarita. She could understand everything, except the rosy mind of her lover. She herself often command cuties to do things for her, and even fooled around with them (the kind with physical contacts). But she couldn't tolerate her lover thinking about anybody else. After all, she’s still just a kid.
Hans and Margarita didn’t really fall in love at the first sight. Initially he sent her lots of gifts and brought her to the forest amusement park every week. In the evenings he bought her bear mother’s honey. Back then Margarita always played hard to get, teasing him forever before finally letting him kiss her. Now it’s more convenient. If he wished, he could be with her at any time. No more excuses necessary.
Hans brought home a box of almond chocolate one day. “Happy birthday Margarita!” Margarita held the chocolate close to her heart, smiling, as if she was afraid of losing it. Her tail swayed happily behind her body. Hans was waiting for her to kiss him, but she didn’t move until he asked, “Aren’t you going to kiss me?” She finally dropped the chocolate and kissed him with all her might, even putting his entire black nose into her mouth. Hans could only use his mouth to breath. They suddenly had the desire, embraced each other and made love.
Afterwards they walked shoulder to shoulder out on the branches to get some fresh air. When their neighbors stole a glance at them, they got embarrassed, because when they were doing it they made the whole tree truck shake. Everybody knew what they were doing inside. Margarita started weeping, “They are so annoying! How boring! Why do we have to have a sex life?”
Hans’s heart started beating fast. “Margarita didn’t really believed it. She’s a woman...no she’s just a kid, how could she have the guts to believe it? Maybe she’s serious, I should’ve...no, god damn, she is just a kid.”
But he finally forgave himself, because he was also just a kid. Or, at least he had a kid’s heart. Kids could not live like that. The next day he grudgingly dropped an envelop on Margarita’s easel. Confused by his guilt, yet excited by his soon to be had freedom, it was like the first time he made love to her:
Margarita, my darling, my favorite, my prettiest one:
I will be back soon, real soon. Don’t cry, baby. If you cry, I’ll suffer to death. But I must go.
Loving, Hans.
Hans hesitated before he opened up the covered canvas. Covered canvases usually shouldn’t be opened, out of respect for the painter.
But He’s going to leave soon, so he wanted a last look. It was still a self-portrait, as beautiful as always. But Hans was shocked: passion like fire burning through the surface, golden background, high flung tail, eyes bigger than normal, sexiness and explosive desire all over the body...where is that arrogant but caring Margarita? Hans was shocked.
Made sure his letter had no spelling errors, Hans started packing.
Except there was also a letter on his desk:
My love for you could not be the reason for me to live with you. The day I decided to leave you I was overcome by a sudden inspiration. My last painting was a reflection of myself then. Now I give it to you as a remembrance of me.
Kiss your chubby face!
Margarita
Seeing the letter, Hans dropped his suitcase and rubbed his round nose. “Hmm, I’d have to cook a little less today.”
Hans and Margarita are two squirrels in the forest (one male and one female). They were still kids when they got married. It’s unclear if it was because squirrels have short lifespans, such that they never had the time to fully grow up, or perhaps they never really wanted to grow up in the first place. The two kids obvioulsly never had premarital sex, and even after the wedding, it was still infrequent. They were happy when they were together. Hans always laid his head on Margarita’s big tail, uttered “I love you” and fell asleep. Margarita, meanwhile, used the agile and hairy tail to brush his chubby face, and even swept him up and down once a while. She could feel Hans’ nose blowing into her hair. They were too happy to need sex.
“But when people get married they always have a sex life,” said Margarita to Hans. “Fine, we can try that too.” Hans was even willing to hold Margarita forever in his arms, but he never had strong urges to have sex with her. He always gave the impression of having never gone through puberty completely. Although, Hans had a another idea—-wouldn’t it be great to have a kid with Margrita? They are kids themselves, and kids often want to have a few more playmates.
Hans made money and took care of the housework. He never got exhausted, and easily kept everything in order. Every time he cooked he always showed his infinite inventiveness. He tried to mix up different sauces, but most of the times it was a disaster. Luckily Margarita’s main interest was junk food, therefore she didn't mind as much.
What else could she do besides eating junk food? Didn't make any money or do any housework? She’s an artist! She used up all her youthful passion on the canvas. Her favorite subject was herself, because she felt that she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Hans wanted to be her model, but she wanted to wait until he’d grown up. Hans was always upset when she said that. He knew he’d probably never grow up.
Plus, he knew maturity and materialism had a subtle relationship. If he grew up, Margarita might like him more, but he might’ve not liked himself as much. It’s important to note that Margarita didn't like materialism either. She liked mature, cool beauty. Artists only cared about beauty.
Though Margarita didn’t make a salary, whenever she sold a painting, she’d become ecstatic for a long while. She’s a great painter, and Hans usually appreciated it. But once his hands was under his chin and said sternly, “your painting lacks something...suffering.” “But baby, my dear Hans, how can I suffer when I’m with you.” Hans contemplated briefly and said, “You could...poverty, lack of sexual satisfaction..” “Yes, you are a bit on the small side, you should exercise more.”
In actuality, Hans exercised a lot. When he went to work, he never walked on the ground. He always jumped from one tree to another.
Sometimes he got a ride from a big bird, but that’s more for the purposes of finding other beautiful squirrels in the forest. He used to be shy, but for some reason, he had more guts to smile to unknown females after getting married. Hans knew he couldn’t tell that to Margarita. She could understand everything, except the rosy mind of her lover. She herself often command cuties to do things for her, and even fooled around with them (the kind with physical contacts). But she couldn't tolerate her lover thinking about anybody else. After all, she’s still just a kid.
Hans and Margarita didn’t really fall in love at the first sight. Initially he sent her lots of gifts and brought her to the forest amusement park every week. In the evenings he bought her bear mother’s honey. Back then Margarita always played hard to get, teasing him forever before finally letting him kiss her. Now it’s more convenient. If he wished, he could be with her at any time. No more excuses necessary.
Hans brought home a box of almond chocolate one day. “Happy birthday Margarita!” Margarita held the chocolate close to her heart, smiling, as if she was afraid of losing it. Her tail swayed happily behind her body. Hans was waiting for her to kiss him, but she didn’t move until he asked, “Aren’t you going to kiss me?” She finally dropped the chocolate and kissed him with all her might, even putting his entire black nose into her mouth. Hans could only use his mouth to breath. They suddenly had the desire, embraced each other and made love.
Afterwards they walked shoulder to shoulder out on the branches to get some fresh air. When their neighbors stole a glance at them, they got embarrassed, because when they were doing it they made the whole tree truck shake. Everybody knew what they were doing inside. Margarita started weeping, “They are so annoying! How boring! Why do we have to have a sex life?”
Hans’s heart started beating fast. “Margarita didn’t really believed it. She’s a woman...no she’s just a kid, how could she have the guts to believe it? Maybe she’s serious, I should’ve...no, god damn, she is just a kid.”
But he finally forgave himself, because he was also just a kid. Or, at least he had a kid’s heart. Kids could not live like that. The next day he grudgingly dropped an envelop on Margarita’s easel. Confused by his guilt, yet excited by his soon to be had freedom, it was like the first time he made love to her:
Margarita, my darling, my favorite, my prettiest one:
I will be back soon, real soon. Don’t cry, baby. If you cry, I’ll suffer to death. But I must go.
Loving, Hans.
Hans hesitated before he opened up the covered canvas. Covered canvases usually shouldn’t be opened, out of respect for the painter.
But He’s going to leave soon, so he wanted a last look. It was still a self-portrait, as beautiful as always. But Hans was shocked: passion like fire burning through the surface, golden background, high flung tail, eyes bigger than normal, sexiness and explosive desire all over the body...where is that arrogant but caring Margarita? Hans was shocked.
Made sure his letter had no spelling errors, Hans started packing.
Except there was also a letter on his desk:
My love for you could not be the reason for me to live with you. The day I decided to leave you I was overcome by a sudden inspiration. My last painting was a reflection of myself then. Now I give it to you as a remembrance of me.
Kiss your chubby face!
Margarita
Seeing the letter, Hans dropped his suitcase and rubbed his round nose. “Hmm, I’d have to cook a little less today.”
