> Am ramas gravida - nu ma mai cauta

Obviously the male voice misses the point ; at stake is not so much a trick as a (retrospectively) very clearly delineated strategy. The interplay of outside ownership and expectation upon the female body (young, of course, adolescents, of course, because that's when solutions are first discovered, to be thenceforth applied) as factually encountered in the time and place resulted in one specific point of punctuated equilibrium, a temporarily stable reproductive strategy. Yes she will fuck ~all comers ; but once she becomes pregnant, either the dude settles her or else she aborts and moves on to another one.

Traditionally and quite universally litters were destroyed as part and parcel of new matings (hence "mes chagrins, mes plaisirs -- je n'ai plus besoin d'eux ; balayé les amours, avec leur trémolos ; balayé pour toujours -- je repars à zéro). The female mates, if not necessarily a virgin, then certainly empty. Because that's what she brings to the relationship, right ? A hole, neh ? A sucking vacuum ; and if not... if the hole's rather full already... well ? Go ye, and live with that then. What do you need me for, disavowed, silenced, but omnipresent male insecurity.

Just as traditionally, the female was traded on the basis of fertility as a chief concern. So here you go then : is she's fertile ? check. Is it yours ? check. Are you man enough or are you not man enough ? The point of female life is searching, obviously, like all life ever. That search will be organised on a paradigm, and in the 90s this was the paradigm.

But should it fail... ablate the potential litter and move on. Quite elegant, especially when comparing this golden age of our porn with the ulterior shit age of your "social media". Elegant because cruel, delightfully so, elegant because earnest, overpoweringly so, elegant in a word because in each and every way opposite your apposite lameness.

And yet... consider, the seeds that'll then fruit are already there, and quite visible. Lookit, all the endlessly complex theatrical production involved, she has to "suggest she'll keep it", she has to posture thusly, dance therely, it's a mile long rider for crying out loud. Is it to anyone's surprise that eventually they figured out it's not fucking worth it ? Or rather, to ditch the pretensive impersonal -- that you're not fucking worth it ?

So then...

Yes, that's right : our revolution'd have worked out a lot better if you lot weren't such useless dweebs.

> Floricele pe campii

Ah, the complex perisexual coding of the period. No self-respecting young woman wore underwear, exactly like he describes. Not because it'd have hindered digitation, but specifically because it'd have connoted such hindrance. See how symbols work ? She just didn't want to appear one of those.

That wasn't the only sexual sign, either. Tattoos (and towards the end of the period piercings) connoted masochism, "do me roughly or don't waste my time" is what they said. Anklets connoted institutionalized feminity, homosexually awakened. "If your girlfriend's cool with it bring her along, we'll threesome" is what it said, with a faint hint of "Actually, I'm one of three girls in a room ; and we fuck together". (Hot damn, I was going to link the fuck together to that scene in Clockwork Orange, as a fine depiction of how this worked -- and YES IT DID, stfu, if "you never knew such" it's because you were fucking lame -- but apparently I never reviewed that film ?! It still exists in Romania, by the way -- we met one such happy exponent of the institutionalized lesbian tradition no further ago than this weekend.)

> Foste si fosti

She just called, you see, to tell him... that...

More an icon of the milieu could not be had. Why did she call ? Yet what exactly did she say ? That, exactly, entirely, it.

> Fututul la romance...sau ce au invatat tovarasele in epoca de aur

Mie mi-au spus niste fete mai... ma rog, sa trecem. Tot aia.

Anyway, the deep reason 90s girls sucked it but didn't fuck [on the first date] is explained above : generous as they may naturally be, still not ~every~ tard's worth an abortion. So they'll signal the installation works, but...

> Am rasfoit actele

Italian problems, or to quote

'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'll have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse;
you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have coursers for cousins and gennets for germans.

Needless to say, sometimes the purchasing of orc cunt works this way ; but just as needless to say : not usually.

> Numere date la shto

Nope, never fucking happen to me. Possibly because I was always special, but in any case : it's not ever likely to happen at all anymore, I got dedicated Whoremasters trying them out first anyways.

I guess I missed out.

Then again... who didn't.