Chinese woman are by and large small, they tend to be petite little reproductive bipeds who tend to keep their youthful figures and complexions until on one dark post menopausal night in their mid seventies they morph into elderly woman.
As such great lumbering western menfolk, at least half of those I spent time with in China, turn into various forms of vocal twitching gonads.
Those of my variety performance ilk tend to grasp their mediocrity with a certain overwrought flair, projecting a confidence quite undershadowed by their limited worth as reproductive vehicles.
Not prepared to accept that mugging or twisting balloons or acting childishly for set professional periods are not in fact the elements attractive alpha males use to attract while being unwittingly seduced by equally alpha and far more devious females with longer set plans seems beyond the grasp of my brethren.
Now I'm not putting on airs, well my writing style is a bit florid but sexually I'm simply confused and distrustful and reluctantly frustrated. I like to think at least honestly so.
But some of my cohorts are just shockingly out of control. Imagine having to let fellow men know how many times that day you have ejaculated down some fellow mammals birth canal? Or how besotted you are with a woman who speaks perhaps two words of your language as if overdosing on cosmetic wistfulness obscures the fact that you are the human version of a red setter humping the sofa.
Now it's a given I'm uncharitable but I'm amazed these types of behaviours can be conceived as anything but heinously blatant miswiring akin to a toy car designed to hit obstacles and redirect itself that instead keeps grinding away at the table-leg until its battery expires or a blue wisp of smoke leaks from it and it expires.
Yet these perambulating tragedies, these singular reproductive vehicles dedicated to nothing more than a specific form of friction marry and breed without pause or respite from their ongoing deceitful compulsion, some blatantly and some, the less married and more openly lonely wrapped in a lightweight foppish mills and boonish fantasy world who nevertheless see women as precious ceramic objects.
My experience is that women have a hidden titanium core or shielding whereas men are just licorice allsorts with laughably rugged packaging.
Sigh...And now I never have to speak of this again.