Are you a serial lover ?

Because it's inventor was named Edwin Land. He also invented the Polarized filter and founded the Polaroid Corporation.

Hey, Acquiunk. One if by land; two if by sea.

Wonder if they're worth anything, now?

Goodnight flamers. Ain't it wonderful that we've managed to extinguish the original meaning of this word.

come on baby, light my fire.

Torch Song Trilogy.

How about torch song tragedy? c.i.

Reminds me - I've been roasted, enflamed, engulfed, afire, and then there were the smoldering embers and the smudges of soot left upon my fragile corporeality...

Now, I do believe that either I am one of them serial lovers or I musta met up with plenty who sparked me and then fizzled. Ahhhhh, memories! This lady plans to have a long career ahead - would that be like a moth to flame? Naaahhhhh, I'm getting choosier with time. And choicer too! Hey, what's that? Smoke I smell? I'll bet I soon find the next flame or extinguish with a smile upon my face.

Surprisingly - I don't recollect falling for someone big time (apart from having a new TV/Movie star as flame every week) till I reached college. Where (gasp, shudder) I fell for this gorgeous girl big time and for a couple of years we had a roaring affair (mind you, I was dating a guy on the side as well, but in India two guys holding hands and walking on the road together is as normal as normal can be - its a girl and a guy holding hands which raises eyebrows)...

It was all sleeping arnd after I broke up with that girl (and discovered my true preferance) till I actually came into LOndon and discovered the gay scene - and it was like letting a kid loose in a candy shop

Yeah, I do remember all those guys who fell big time for me (they were all blind ), and I also keep a record of my one night stands - no name or numbers, just a notch in my belt whenever I have a new conquest - so I know excatly how many men have I schmoozed in the last 8 years (I always get dizzy spells when I look at that number )

Sometimes it's hard for me to know if I'm in a "relationship" or not.
Maybe you can tell me, just so I'll know how society judges things.

I love. She loves. We both love so many things. The world is an amazing place.
Are we in love? Yes!
With each other? Well, that's definitely part of it.

If it were possible to love one person or thing more than another,
then I love her more than anything in the whole world.

But I think Love is overwhelmingly parallel, rather than serial.
How can I "pick up" or "drop" a thing like wonder, curiosity, gratitude or joy?
Love comes from inside and overflows onto everything, infinitely and
continuously, whether I want it to or not.

There is nothing to find, cling to, provide, need, depend on, or fall for,
nothing to seduce or acheive, spark or use
when a steady fire already burns deep inside, regardless.

Switching lovers is like breathing different air. I just breath.
"Love the one you're with."

When someone is ready for commitment I will be there,
but even then I will still Love.

Until then, I keep writing dozens of love poems
that could easily be addressed "To Whom It May Concern"
because life is too short to wait.
There are so many things to know and see.

Not me. Divorced three years ago. Haven't had a date since. Not because I haven't had offers. I have. But at this age I don't want to play around. A lot of people including my own family think I'm holding out for the possibility of my ex and I getting back together again. That's not the case. I don't want to hurt someone nor do I want to be hurt. If the right woman comes along though I will alter my stance dramatically.

It has some humorous slants too as it gets noticed in my little neighborhood bar that I always arrive alone and leave alone. It's even been suggested I'm gay. I'm not. Luckily I enjoy being alone so there's no stress to have it happen. When it does it should be natural with no pressure on either side.

I kept all kinds of things - photos, letters, odds and ends. Then I got engaged and decided that it was time to just keep the things from that one and none other. Well, except for maybe one little picture of a boy from long ago.....

I see a couple of exes from time to time. They give a quick hello lightly laced with venom, maybe hoping for a reaction of apology from me or who only knows what. But, I got rid of each one of them for a reason and don't feel a bit sorry. Burn, baby, burn.

Hmm. I keep track of every single one of them. Can't stand the thought of any of them slipping away. They don't have to love me till the day I die, but it feels nice to be in touch with those with whom you share some nice memories. Never fought with any of them, they were all great in one way or another, after all, I do have good taste. It just died away each time. Still friends with most of them. My man is friends with some of them. And I know a few of his exes. It's all great. (Except for Cheryl....grrrrr.....if only I had claws....but don't tell anyone!!!)

Sugar, a girl or a boy have gotta do what they gotta do. A little fire gives you a little heat and cleans the system

My first crush must have been when I was 12-13, at summer camp, on a blonde bombshell of a counsellor. It is entirely possible I still have the 'last day of camp' goodbyes I collected, but I have no idea where. Most of the other stuff from exes is gone, but that was not too long ago. I'm an emotional pack-rat.

So, last summer I was doing a BBQ for one of my regular clients, a corporate lawyer, and self-proclaimed bachelor. He says: "Paul, let me introduce you to my girlfriend..." Guess who it was? That counsellor I had a crush on as a boy. Small world, eh?

Did she recognize ya, Boss?

Yeah, she did, but I think my memories of her were more vivid, heh heh.

Am I a cereal lover ? Well yes. I love all kinds except for fruit loops and count chocula.

Too hot to trot here in Florida, or as my friend once said, too hot to trout.

Rain, when ya gonna rain again
Rain, Go down lover's lane again.
Shower your blessings on me.

First reciprocated crush was George McGill in 7th (or was it 8th) grade. I wore his initial ring - but not at home!

I have kept a few souvenirs and photos of some of my exes. They're fun to look at from time to time. I agree with Dag about wanting to keep up with them, but I've lost track of a few.

Setanta, I, too have kissed the Blarney Stone. None of my cohorts were the least bit interested, but I wanted to kiss the darned thing after climbing up there and all! Then when I was in the afore-described position, the wall was pink with lipstick! So I sort of swung my head to the side to kiss it. (I'm sure I gave the little Irish guy holding on to me a fright!) Do you suppose they ever clean that wall?

Sheesh John what are you thinking. Definitely I am a serial lover but I hope that I never left any hearts burnt to a crisp.

However, I must admit to having had my heart burnt to a crisp on occasion.

My main goal now is to be and have some one to love. But at my age that seems unlikely. Women seem to be very smart they keep the good ones and that leaves some pretty slim pickens for us old folks.

Letty: I can't believe it. "Happy" was my first beau's name until my mother changed it to "Dopey". Did your "Happy" have red hair and freckles and pull your pigtails? And follow you home every day from school? Oh, and did he have scar over his left eye that looked like someone might have thrown a rock at him because if he didn't, you knew him before I did. Well anyway, I saw "Happy"again some 20 years later. He was studying for the ministry and was interested in a date, but I declined because I was occupied with "Bashful" at the time. I met Grumpy later. (I swear this is the solemn truth)

Mac, The Blarney Stone is probably annointed with Guinness and Old Bushmills on a regular basis. I saw the B/S when I was on my honeymoon. It seemed to me that it''s procarious location was conducive to kissing or safety.

Joanne, not to have any burnt hearts in your wake suggests that you are kindly and considerate lady. People say love is for the young. Wrong. It's for all and love makes people young in their hearts. I didn't plight my troth till I was well past 30. There is the old saying Joanne, seek & ye shall find.