Here in Australia we are currently busy trying to work out if gay people have the right to be married, which I happen to think is a no-brainer, what I’m really interested in, something worthy of debate is passing a law allowing polygamous marriage to one’s pets.
My knight in shining armour seems to have been delayed by a few decades, and temping in his place have been quite a few retards in tin foil. While I’ve been patiently waiting, I seem to have accumulated quite a few cats and one dog. If he doesn’t show up soon, I’ll either be senile or dead (and probably eaten by my pets).
Truthfully though, I’m already quite senile and I have the additional problem now of being chronically unwell. My allure is somewhat dampened, although I’m fairly confident I could pull off a seductive ‘Dance of the Seven Dressing Gowns’ if required.
Nice as they are, relationships are hard work, whereas pets don’t need anywhere near the same amount of effort.
Pros for pets:
- They offer unconditional love 24/7
- You maintain sole possession of the remote control
- They don’t badger you for sex (excluding occasional leg humping)
- They can’t drivel on about themselves in minute detail
Cons for pets:
- They vomit up fur-balls on your pillow and other random places
The major issue with the relationship-seeking/chronic illness combo is that I’m just not willing or able to put on a show. What you see is what you get. I’m doing you the gigantic favour of showing you the real me, while all other women will wait a good 12-months to let themselves go. I won’t do that to you. You will never need to say to me, ‘Remember when I thought you had big boobs, clear skin and you were pleasant all the time??’ I’ll spare you that deceit. No push-up bras, no make-up, no sexy underwear and no Brazilian (more like a Brazilian rainforest!). We can skip that whole facade! I won’t fake orgasm I promise, I’m happy to just lay there looking bored. I won’t build up resentment about every little thing you do that irritates me and clobber you with allllllll of them at once out of the blue in a random argument. I’ll point them out on the first date, and every day thereafter. I’ll keep the door open when on the toilet and I’ll fart without inhibition. You’ll always know where you stand with me. No nasty surprises here.
You may well ask, “And how’s that working out for you??”, to which I would reply, it’s more of a theory at the moment, I’ve yet to summon up the energy to put myself out there and find that lucky fella.
In the meantime, I have my growing menagerie (or harem if you will) of faithful furry companions to meet all of my emotional needs. They applaud my clothing choice of soft dressing gowns with food remnants glued down the front, for them, I’m bed and breakfast all in the one outfit. They think I’m terrific all the time, whether I’m in bed, on the loo or lounge, there they are, offering their non-judgemental love and commitment to me. If pet marriage is legalised, divorce will be almost non-existent (except if you marry a particularly feisty guinea pig or one of those stupid yappy Chihuahuas, I’m talking about REAL pets here).
There. I feel I’ve made a compelling argument for animal nuptials, if you agree, raise your hand (or paw) and say, “I DO!”