A woman is like a ninja. Her body the perfect weapon, able to effortlessly dispatch even the hardest of men with casual simplicity. She is born with a natural arsenal in which to choose and depending upon her intent, can flirt, seduce, liquify, or terminate her opposites at will. Instead of tonfas, swords, throwing stars, and bamboo darts dipped in blowfish toxin, the modern, woman ninja possesses weaponry of mind, breast, shoulder, tummy, persona, tongue, etc. 21st century steel is no match when compared to the flesh of a woman ninja. Not even close.
i will seduce you with my mind and hypnotize you with my bodice...
As much as I fear the woman ninja, I simultaneously desire her. It’s like superman wanting to make love to Lois Lane after she secretly smoothed on Kryptonite body lotion. The allure is beyond temptation but indulging in it will instantly vaporize any man’s nut sack and mojo. A frank with no beans is a useless stalk, so they say. But as my wise, one-eyed grandfather of the Shaolin once told me before my departure into the modern world, “Grandson, it is your destiny to make love to the woman ninja no matter how painful. It is through this great pain that you will find your truest self. Just make sure to practice safe sex and say thank you.” My one-eyed grandfather was a wise man indeed…
