Declining Standards

Back in the days of my very-much misspent yoot, we did the student protest thing not just because of injustice and fighting back against The Man etc., but also because it was a really good place to pick up chicks.  And by and large, they were good-looking ones too.


Yeesh.  No wonder all the male protesters these days look like effeminate girlymen if not actual homosexualists.

Then again, if I drop the rose-colored spectacles for a moment, I also recall that a lot of the Indignant Womyns back then were kinda like the scolds we see today:  uhly, humorless and fanatical.

No man should.


  1. No hardons with either crowd, brother.

    Getting my dick wet with a member of either group wouldn’t be worth the human cost of it all

  2. Back in the days (the old man is at it again!) when the ink on my DD214 was still wet and I hadn’t worn out my navy issue work shoes I had one of those ephipany things and came to understand that I was hopefully in life for the long run. In the mid 70s there were still a bunch of hippie sluts around and they were fun if you could get past the smell. However I couldn’t imagine retirement with one of those lunatics.

    So I looked for ladies (not girls) who were sensible and sane, and had enough self respect to dress well and take showers on a regular schedule. I wanted a lady who had a job, understood money, and had a moral code that guided her actions. Through some good luck – certainly not skill on my part – I was blessed with such a lady. After a couple of dates I remember her saying that the only path to her bedroom was past a church altar. Despite my days in the flesh pots of the far east I was okay with that.

    Marge and I made 46 1/2 years before the monster took out her heart last fall. It still hurts and it probably always will but I’m thankful for the long run that we had together. I believe that I chose wisely.

  3. I see your problem. The second picture appears to be a feminist protest. The anti-war protests were the place to go back then.

  4. Never put your dick in crazy. Sure it might be fun, adventurous and exciting but that’s how you get your car trashed, a bunny in the pot etc.

  5. Crazy is relative. Back in the day I would have been in one of those crowds, and from that perspective, they were the sanest people I knew (OK 80% were–in any given crowd of believers there are always a few who want to start chopping heads/stringing them up). I have great memories and experiences with some of those enthusiastic women.

    1. Yes — Learned early on that there are usually two Flavors, the True Believers and the camp followers. Streer clear of the True believers. But the camp followers are there for the party. …. and the minister’s eldest daughter is usually the leader of the party wing of the Camp followers.

  6. I have a few screws up there that need tightening too. My POV is, while you’re enjoying, enjoy. When you stop enjoying, stop.

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