The blog that will pop up on a million searches because of the 'P' word

BPP porn involves watching men playing with children (in a depressing nod to the terrible times in which we live, I feel compelled to clarify I mean that in an entirely non-sexual manner). I attended the most wonderful bbq in Tunbridge Wells yesterday with 2 very wonderful guy-friends of mine, and as I watched them cavort around with the host’s children, I swear my tummy got all swimmy. Something about watching grown men let 6 year old girls, all jumped up on sugar, beat them to a pulp with foam jousting sticks, just gave me the warm and gooey’s for them both.

Now before ya’ll start predicting some Jerry Springer love triangle fisty-cuffs, let me assure you that I can tell the difference between a hormone related crush and one of a more tangible (bad choice of word; by definition, a crush is never very tangible) variety… ok, that’s a lie. Most of the time I can… when I’m not drinking. Anyway I know it had more to do with the old ovaries kicking in than with any deeper romantic feelings, but I’ll be damned if I don’t have a bit more of a soft spot for the boys today.