Fear of missing out sunshine. As soon as the sun shines, my monkey brain screams; where are we going?! What do we do?! I have to swing to the patio/garden bench/pool donut and fill my bare chest with cold drinks.

That is of course what you get in a country where a gray ceiling is the standard for six months a year.

The overall testosterone level erupts in many. The dresses shorter, the nights longer…

But if you're in a long-term relationship, put it in a bal burrata or dip it in pinot grigio if you want to arouse your partner's lust.

Or the other way around, writing down the sports results south of the navel or dipping your buttocks in a tub of beer to tempt the man of the house into the deed.

I think the celebrities have this monkey horniness all the time. The juice channels find more juice than Johan Derksen can tell dirty stories. Possibly the bonobo BN-ers have the same feeling as I have with the sun. Tomorrow could be different! I must use my attraction now, tomorrow it may be over.

And I don't have a ball of buratta or pinot grigio at home…

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