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All's fair in love and war
19/08/2008 13:11 - (SA)
David Moseley
It must have been at around 05:30 this morning when I realised what could ease the world's ills, wipe the terror clean off the face of the planet, make every day fresh, new and exciting sans bombs, war and depression.
Admittedly, she could have waited till all of me was up, but hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go. I think it was Engelbert Humperdinck who sang that what the world needs more of is "love, sweet love". He was close.
What the world needs more of is just downright dirty, nasty, messy, sweaty, loving, caring, heaving, headboard bashing, doesn't-really-matter-as-long-as-you're-having-it sex. Thump away good people of planet earth (but do it wrapped in latex, of course) and your worries drift away serenely into the night - or the early, early morning.
I know this is true because, apart from getting my head stuck in the metal bars on a flimsy headboard last night and not stopping (it would have been impolite to halt the momentum), on Saturday morning I witnessed the power of passionate love-making first-hand.
I was in the forest, readying my bike for a ride. There was a lonely baboon lying at my feet, looking like he'd been left at the seaside by neglectful parents. At first I thought he wanted a bite of my cappuccino muffin, but he said caffeine wasn't his thing. So I asked, "Hey little monkey guy, why so glum?" He looked up with his big baboon-monkey eyes, shrugged and sighed and pointed towards the family.
Dating game
And there it was. Monkey loving in all its furry, bared-teeth, pink bum in the air fury. I felt for the little fella. But I was just so darn glad that his old man was getting some. Held up against a tree stump was Mrs Baboon, Suzy, I think she said her name was, while Mr Baboon was standing up on two legs thrashing away with mighty effect. No worries, not a care in the world. Life was good in the forest that day. And so it should be.
Now let's just take a look at the prominent figures in the news of late. Vladimir Putin. Likes: antagonising the West with his manly Russian bravado, hunting bear with his shirt off, invading countries and reigniting cold wars. He's not getting any. Despite being pictured with a bevy of beauties, the Russian Prime Minister is clearly not taking advantage of his executive powers. But not our man in France. He knows what he's doing.
Nicolas Sarkozy. Likes: watching rugby with Thabo Mbeki, eating snails, marrying models with a penchant for singing and song-writing, brokering cease-fires which or may not last longer than 35 minutes.
When the mini-war broke out in South Ossetia last week, Sarkozy swaggered into the middle of the conflict with all the confidence of a man who's on fire in the bedroom. He kicked Vlad to the floor and said, "C'mon man, have you seen some of those belters running around the Ukraine. Just borrow the presidential Kamov for a weekend, check it out for yourself and you'll feel right as rain in the morning."
Da, comrade. You have a point. The Mrs just isn't Putin out anymore.
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