This whole thread seems to be arguing that making love to a beautiful woman is better with a fireplace, fur rug, glass of wine, candle light and soft music is superior to a lights out, smack down at midnight with an unwilling participant or a warm quickey before the fucking alarm goes off, will get no argument from me.

Of course life is not a Harlequin Romance and the closest most of us get to this sensuous experience is boffing our sons teacher in the back of her Mini Cooper after the PTA meeting in the parking lot of the overpriced private school we mistakingly thought would give our brat a leg up.

So while you lay there fondling your perfect print in front of the fireplace try to remember the rough and tumble world the rest of us live in, with frames and glass and smelly sprays and nail holes in the wall.