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Why? Why me? Why am I getting this deal?” “Because your love is lukewarm and your wish is half-assed and prideful. I’m from another time and place, my dear, when love made the cup run over and love killed. That’s what I stand for. When gods and men wrestled, fought, and fucked; and the offspring of their union was sometimes hideous, sometimes wondrous. Sometimes the Minotaur, sometimes Hercules. Win some, lose some, get mauled, raped, and eaten by some. Your love is the holding of hands, the peck on the cheek, the Cialis couple in matching tubs. Your love is the tepid treacle left on Oprah’s hanky.
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