I heard this metaphor growing up, and in my case, it backfired supremely, because I went out into my neighbor’s backyard where a rose bush was growing, and the one I tested had like 30 petals (it was yellow, but definitely a rose of some kind), and as a very logical lass, I came to the conclusion that you could have premarital sex AT LEAST ten times before your future husband would even notice something was up. Moral of the story? Test your metaphors on the weirdest and most neurodivergent child you know before writing your weird religious propaganda.
As a florist I also find this hilarious too because you pretty much always need to remove four or five guard petals from a rose before incorporating it into an arrangement. If I actually handed someone a “virgin rose” they would inevitably complain about the quality because the outer petals of a rose are almost always bruised, torn, or sometimes even rotted. Not to mention the roses you can buy are the product of almost a thousand years of selective breeding and therefore not very natural themselves.
So like, be an untouched flower I guess but don’t show us all the natural blemishes that come with that?
What I’m hearing is that fucking four or five times before marriage improves your appearance and clears your skin
If you’re an adult, do the stuff you couldn’t as a kid.
Like, me and my sister went to a museum, and they had an extra exhibit of butterflies. But it cost £3. So we sighed, walked past, then stopped. We each had £3. We could see the butterflies. And we did it was great. We followed it up with an ice-cream as well because Mum and Dad weren’t there to say no.
I was driving back from a work trip with 2 other people in their early 20s, and we drove past a MacDonalds. One of the others went “Aww man, I’d love a McFlurry.” And the guy driving pulled in to the drive through. It was wild. But it was great.
I went to a park over the weekend and I was thinking “Man, I’d love to hire one of those bikes and cycle round the park.” It took me a few minutes to go “Wait, I can hire one of those bikes!”
I guess what I’m saying is, those impulsive things you wanted to do as a kid - see the dinosaur exhibit, play in the fountains with the other kids, lie in the shade for 2 hours - you can do when you’re an adult. You have to deal with a whole lot of other bull, but at least you can indulge your inner 8 year-old.
[ID: a photo of an opossum looking upwards in a sunny field of flowers. light green text over the image says, in all caps, “eat when you’re hungry. rest when you’re tired. / you don’t need to ‘earn it’”. end ID]
Again it’s an honour to be drawing one of my favourite short stories ever. Thank you so much for the original authors for creating this story; and for everyone who bought a copy and donated to the above non-profits.
