Are my best snogging days behind me?
I rarely drop off to sleep quickly, despite being fucking exhausted, so this is one of those 'things that keep me up at night' thoughts.
And if anything is to keep me up at night, thoughts are the last thing I want, yeah. Ah, pervy jokes.
If you’re in your forties (and beyond—welcome), you might be pondering the same thing.
Maybe I’m just a miserable bastard (erm, yes) but it seems to me that if you’ve been in a relationship for longer than ten years, snogging is the first thing to go. That’s a generous estimate, btw, because I think intense smooching goes out the window long before you celebrate your tenth anniversary.
And no, Patrisha, this doesn’t happen to everyone. A minority are still sucking gums with gusto long after the ink on their marriage certificate has dried.
But as I lie in my bed, struggling to find the sweet release of slumber, I do wonder if my greatest kissing opportunities have passed me by.
Please say it isn’t so.
The sad truth is, I didn’t indulge in enough lip-smacking as a youth.
I squandered my bouncy, firm and supple years being too shy and self-conscious. What a fool I was—what an addlepated fool, to not become a serial snogger.
Why wasn’t I tongue wrestling at an age when my lips were collagen rich…
…and I looked like Dennis Pennis…
Further evidence (if required):
And here’s Dennis Pennis:
I should've gone snogging bonkers when I had it all to live for. What an absolute tragedy! Just think of all the hours of practice I’ve missed. Think of the stories I could tell. The delights I could regale my ‘many’ friends with—I could wow them with my extensive necking experience.
A missed opportunity.
Still, I’m not dead yet, despite sometimes looking like I am, there’s still life in the old girl yet!
Did you enjoy that?
If so, you might like this: