not until you have felt erotical goosebumps running through your body with the northern wind, a may so called it could awaken you skeleton to prance, outside your body... such cold of a spring... but such that there is any eroticism in that sensation? in that springtime cold? and that there is such a "thing"? it almost feels like the antidote to the western concept of st. thomas' gospel and the nag hammadi entries... you want a "*** change"? o earth, yawn and take these poor souls to their graves, but sacrifice their lot, not, for the living next; of those that ask: and what of the children to come? are we all really bore people whether we grow a beard? and don unapproachable ideas? what's that? is that even fashionable these days? cougar mama! what now? what now? dunno... grow a beard and start deeming yourself a philosopher, a vampire, a werewolf? huh? where who aloof? as bad jokes go... that was a crusty pancake of a joke, so don't mind it; but i'm dead serious about the cold of a may spring... it's not about the scent of flowers suddenly oppening and going all berserker with an opulence of scents... which could make anyone into a psilocybin-induced viking warrior, or so they say. but it's the cold, it's the cold... it's so ****** ****** in that it gives me goosebumps... geese bim bim, bim bá tá too? alt. ba(h) ta(h) tow in two? is this becoming a jewish joke? am i going to deep-fry some bread to get a bagel out, as if i was scottish and deep-fried a slice of pizza? come on! all i'm saying is that i find cold air ******, my ******* get hard, and i'm thinking about the hair on my abdoment and my eden region; what's wrong with equating cold air with a "mild" form of eroticism?