Yo-ho-ho!!!... A single life for me... (and a bottle of rum)

Actually I don't drink anymore...
Well that's not exactly true...
I do have the odd drink on occasion. But very rarely these days. Perhaps 5 or 6 beers in my (now once a year) drinking session.
And definitely never more than 3 rums.
Not that rum makes me do anything stupid.
But any more than three and it just sends my brain into hyper-drive (I think it is the sugar).
Then I find thoughts like those safely contained in this blog, somehow end up being voiced amongst company...
Talk about clearing a room!

Then recently I got to thinking. I have rules on drinking. So, do I have rules on dating and relationships?
...After after having 6 beers and 3 rums, I realise I do.
And they're not particularly complicated...

RULE ONE:
My Cherry Ripes are my own. Hands off.
Explanation:
It's a question of trust. I mean if I can't trust someone to not eat my Cherry Ripe after I've asked them specifically not to eat it... how can I trust them with anything else...
Hmmm... But then again, I do realise Cherry Ripes are very yummy, so if the other person were to eat it, I'd expect to be told and for it to be replaced post haste.
POST HASTE I TELL YOU!!!
Or at least have one added to the next shopping list.

RULE TWO:
Do not assume you know my answer to something.
Explanation:
This is not some deep-seeded arrogance on my part. Hell, I don't even know what my answers will be most of the time.
I mean I have core values that don't shift. You know, stuff like kids should be protected from harm. Murder is wrong. Those sorts of things. But how I will interpret some pieces of information is pretty fluid. Like... umm... one day I'll decide I hate hot dogs and a month from then I'll probably feel like one...

Be right back, I feel like eating a hot dog...

*burp*

...Oh! Now I remember why I hate hot dogs...
They taste horrible.

I guess what I'm saying is that if you should not assume my answers but it's OK if you don't tell me something, no wait... It's OK to say you've done something because there's a chance I would have changed my mind eventually to agree with whatever it is you've done, and therefore, I gave my permission.... I just may not have realised it yet.

RULE THREE:
Don't come between me and my PlayStation time.
Explanation:
Men are like cavemen. There. I admit it.
Here's the thing. After a days hunting, cavemen liked to retire to the back of the cave for some solitude, to think about the hunt. It wasn't anti-social behaviour. Just a way to unwind from the stress of the hunt.
Playing PlayStation is the modern man's equivalent of heading to the back of the cave, that's all.
And asking me to stop playing, before I am ready, is like trying to smoke me out of my cave by lighting a fire at the entrance.
And that seems logical doesn't it? Lighting the fire?
But like all dumb men instead of heading for the entrance and fresh air...
I'll head further into the cave... and become more determined to play on.

Oh. And ladies. Don't stand in front of the TV...
That's never going to work.
To men that's like a saber-toothed tiger has entered the cave.
And seeing as those things were really, really scary, our only instinctual option is to try and huff, and puff, and gruff and bluff our way out of the situation.

Now you understand why we get so grumpy when you do that. It's not our fault it's evolutionary.

But here's what you do... and I can't believe I'm letting you know... grab the 2nd controller and hit the START button to pause the game. Then you'll have my undivided attention, or at least the 2nd controller will... but you'll be holding it. So you'll have the power.

END OF RULES.

Hmmm. Thinking on it further. My rules aren't really rules are they?
They're actually pretty easy to circumvent.
Man! That's so unfair.
That's it. I'm staying single. Or getting rid of my second PlayStation controller.

Drinking or not drinking isn't this confusing.
So you can do what you want, and I'll just follow my drinking rules, if that's OK?
Ermm... please?