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So, the other night, My Future Ex-Husband Who Has Less Than No Desire To Actually Caress My Inner Thigh and I were taking a pre-date stroll along the promenade.  It was that night when the moon was freakishly close to the earth, and it was truly breathtaking over the ocean.  I felt a sense of peace - being with My Future Ex-Husband Who Has Less Than No Desire To Actually Caress My Inner Thigh does that to me.  He's one of the nicest people I know - and so accepting.  Like in spite of, and perhaps even because of my fly-off-the-wall crazy PMS moments - he still thinks I'm all kinds of rad.

Anyway, there we were, hand-in-hand, soaking up the smells that Durban has to offer.  That bit by Addington Hospital doesn't smell so grand.  But we breathed through our ears and made it out alive.  And then, we looked up the hotels that rim the beachfront.  (Not rim like that - you dirty mingers.)

Future Ex-Husband Who Has Less Than No Desire To Actually Caress My Inner Thigh:  I wonder what those people up there are doing.

The Pant:  They're probably getting ready to go out on a date.  Like us.  Except I'm sure theirs will have happy endings.

FEHWHLTNDTACMIT:  Speak for yourself, Pant.

TP:  I only have myself to speak for.  Or maybe they're here on business.  And they're going to go to a restaurant on their own.  With a book.  I once served a man who took his book on a date.  He had a three course meal.

FEHWHLTNDTACMIT:  Doesn't sound like a bad idea.

TP:  You make a good point.  Except I don't think I could read Kathy Lette in public.  I blush too much and have exceptionally animalistic urges, at times, which I'm unable to suppress.

FEHWHLTNDTACMIT:  Ha ha.  Best not to do those in public, Pant.  Or maybe, they're getting some pre-dinner action.

TP:  True.  Although I personally wouldn't choose Durban as a DW destination.

FEHWHLTNDTACMIT:  Well some people do.

TP:  You think?

FEHWHLTNDTACMIT:  No.  I know.  Check The Holiday Inn.  Three windows across, three windows down.

And let me tell you something - this was first class porn like I've never owned.

TP:  No man.  For real.  No man.  No.  He's just standing like Da Vinci's David and looking at the moon.

FEHWHLTNDTACMIT:  Then why is she kneeling in front of him bobbing her head backwards and forwards?

TP:  No man.  (I squinted my aged eyes at this point to try and work out what the silhouettes were doing).  No man.  For real?

FEHWHLTNDTACMIT:  For real, my Pant.  There's a whole bunch of dirty lovin' going on there.

TP:  No.  Look.  He's turned to the side.  They're having a conversation.

FEHWHLTNDTACMIT:  Then why is she bent over from the waist?  And he's thrusting his hips backwards and forwards.

TP:  No man (I really was in a state of shock).  He's dancing.  She's taking a while to tie her shoelaces.

FEHWHLTNDTACMIT:  Then why are they never really apart?  Their silhouettes are always connected.

TP:  Go and give all our money to those fishermen for their deckchairs.  I'm not leaving until I've got some answers.

FEHWHLTNDTACMIT:  Uh-oh.  A third party has just arrived.

TP:  You see.  They're a family.  On holiday.  (I looked a little longer.)  Uh-oh.

FEHWHLTNDTACMIT:  Yup.  All three figures are blending into one frenzied silhouette now.

TP:  Why do you have to be gay?

FEHWHLTNDTACMIT:  Why do you have to be a girl?

If you want some free porn, best you hit the beach front.