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Between The Ages Of Fourteen And Twenty-four, Foreplay Changes From Being Something That Boys Want To Do And Girls Don't, To Something That Women Want And Men Can't Be Bothered With. ... The Perfect Match, If You Ask Me, Is Between The Cosmo Woman And The Fourteen-year Old Boy.

You Don't Ask People With Knives In Their Stomachs What Would Make Them Happy; Happiness Is No Longer The Point. It's All About Survival; It's All About Whether You Pull The Knife Out And Bleed To Death Or Keep It In.

But The Internet Had Changed Everything: Nobody Was Forgotten Anymore.

Self-pity Is An Ignoble Emotion, But We All Feel It, And The Orthodox Critical Line That It Represents Some Kind Of Artistic Flaw Is Dubious, A Form Of Emotional Correctness.

Anyway, Who Lives A Rich And Beautiful Life That I Know? It's No Longer Possible, Surely, For Anyone Who Works For A Living, Or Lives In A City, Or Shops In A Supermarket, Or Watches Tv, Or Reads A Newspaper, Or Drives A Car, Or Eats Frozen Pizzas. A Nice Life, Possibly, With A Huge Slice Of Luck And A Little Spare Cash. And Maybe Even A Good Life If... Well, Let's Not Go Into All That. But Rich And Beautiful Lives Seem To Be A Discontinued Line.