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Who's Knocking at My Door? My Life in a Nutshell

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This is the story of my life. It began with someone knocking at my door. Perhaps it was opportunity knocking.


“Knock, knock.”


“Who’s there?”


“Castro.”


“Castro who?”


“Castro Moneybags.”


Probably just another pesky salesman. I soon found out that, indeed, he was a salesman, but not the kind I had expected. My curiosity was piqued, so I let him in. Who was I to argue with Paul McCartney?


“So your last name is Moneybags, eh? How did you get that name?” Inquiring minds want to know these things.


“They call me Moneybags because I have all the money in the world,” he replied. “Furthermore, I’d like to give it all to you.”


I checked his credentials. He was legit. “Okay, you’ve got my attention. But I know there’s got to be a catch. And by the way, why is your first name Castro?”


“You’re right, there is a catch. The reason my first name is Castro is because I castrate men and turn them into eunuchs. Once I perform this procedure, a man is unable to perform sexually for the rest of his life. Not only is he unable to perform sexually ever again, he loses all desire for sex. So here’s my proposal. I will give you all the money in the world if you allow me the pleasure of castrating you.”


Without a moment of hesitation, I gave Castro Moneybags the boot and told him never to come knocking at my door ever again. Even though there are lots of wonderful lofty things I could do with all that money, there was simply no way it would be worth it if sex was not an option.


I began thinking that most people regard God as a Cosmic Castro Moneybags who wants to castrate us once we enter the Pearly Gates. I then went back to bed. But no sooner had I returned to dreamland when I heard another knock at my door.


“Who’s there?”


“My name is Mona … Mona Christian,” she replied.


I opened the door and let her in. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. We talked for hours. It was amazing. We had everything in common. Well, almost everything. She was a Christian, like me, hence the last name. But she was totally monogamous. She wanted to marry me, but only if I agreed to an exclusive, monogamous relationship. I tried to persuade her that monogamy was ridiculous and that we should have an open, polyamorous relationship. How could I possibly get into an exclusive monogamous relationship? Why, I have written numerous books and articles promoting open relationships and denouncing sexual exclusivity. How could I compromise everything I believed in?


But she would not compromise her position one iota. Reluctantly, I showed monogamous Mona the door and told her it would never work out. We parted ways, never to cross paths again. So sad.


And then along came Poly Pagani and her polyamorous partners. I opened the door and let them in.


Poly Pagani and her partners were gorgeous. I was a single guy who hadn’t gotten lucky for a long, long time. I was hoping this might be my lucky day. But I had little in common with Poly Pagani and her partners, other than the fact that we all shared a belief in polyamory. None of them shared my Christian convictions. We all agreed that it would never work out, so we parted ways. If only Mona Christian and Poly Pagani and her partners were poly Christians.


So many women, so little time. This, in a nutshell, is the story of my life.


 


 

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