I thought of this one on the way home several days ago. "Horny Pheremon-y". not the most scientific of names, but that'd be the title i'd give to the pheremones that cause love and lust between ppl.
when i came up with that, i was (obviously) thinking abt the interactions between ppl which cause love and lust and stuff. i was thinking: commonly accepted today is the idea that feelings of interest are aroused thru the emitting and receiving of pheremones - chemical "smells" which we detect, and which upon detection generate feelings in our bodies. so what happens when u like someone, and then stop? do the pheremones "fail"? or does the person stop emitting them? in which case you could say that when A likes B, and then stops, its not A that's stopped liking B, but B that's stopped attracting A.
i wont insult your intelligence by following thru the ramifications of what i'm talking abt. but take some time and think abt it. i reckon its pretty interesting.
after econs?! mannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
=)
"It'll be a cold day in Hell before I let you kill me."
"Send me a postcard with pretty snow-covered lakes of sulphur then."
Bang.
when i came up with that, i was (obviously) thinking abt the interactions between ppl which cause love and lust and stuff. i was thinking: commonly accepted today is the idea that feelings of interest are aroused thru the emitting and receiving of pheremones - chemical "smells" which we detect, and which upon detection generate feelings in our bodies. so what happens when u like someone, and then stop? do the pheremones "fail"? or does the person stop emitting them? in which case you could say that when A likes B, and then stops, its not A that's stopped liking B, but B that's stopped attracting A.
i wont insult your intelligence by following thru the ramifications of what i'm talking abt. but take some time and think abt it. i reckon its pretty interesting.
after econs?! mannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
=)
"It'll be a cold day in Hell before I let you kill me."
"Send me a postcard with pretty snow-covered lakes of sulphur then."
Bang.
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