以下是引用longvacation在2006-2-26 12:17:00的发言：

关于第三者，补充一篇 倪震先生： 你好，我是你的忠实听众，也是你的忠实读者。我今次写信给你，是想公开我偷食的经验，让女孩子可以明白，她们在像我一样的玩家心目中，其 实是怎麼一回事。我听过太多甘愿做第三者的女孩子的故事，她们一点不理解男人的心态，我不是想做二五仔，但我实在忍受不了那些一面做第三者一面投诉的女孩 子。她们，根本没有被善待的资格！ 我背著女朋友搞搞震，原因只有一个，剌激感，再准确一点说，是性的剌激感。我不是不喜欢和女朋友做爱，但一具新鲜的女性胴体我是随时欢 迎的。是的，我承认这行为极度自私，但我不明白为甚麼我遇上的女孩子却都认为那是浪漫。是十分滑稽，但千真万确。我偷食超过十次，但所有给我撇了的女孩子 都仍当我是朋友，还偶尔会和我发生关系。她们为甚麼看不到，我只是想和她们上床呢？我愈接触得多这样的女孩子，我愈觉得她们贱，尤其是甘愿做第三者的。我 不用对她们讲大话，我可以要求她们实现我所有的性幻想。我已发出一套追女仔和撇女仔的公式：带她们去几间高档的餐厅、弹钢琴给她们听，去山顶看日出、漫步 沙滩等，所费无几，但所有女孩子都受这一套，万试万灵。还有，最重要是告诉她们我有多爱我女朋友，对她有多好，她们便会觉得我是个好男人，甚至妒嫉起来。 唉，我的猎物从加拿大到香港到大陆，从大学生到OL，都是一模一样的蠢。 通常是几个月後，当我的性欲得到彻底的满足，又未生厌和上身前，我就会告诉她们，我女朋友好像知道了有第三者（其实当然没有这件事）。 我会假装得依依不舍地和她们分手，因为，我仍然爱我女朋友和尊重对她的承诺。而那些可怜的女孩子都倾向同情我，认为我是好人，但她们却没有想到，好人又怎 会背著女朋友偷食呢？我的方程式每次都奏效，你可以说我很禽兽，但，愿者上钩，我觉得，是她们自作孽。 我想告诉那些甘於做第三者的女孩子，你们只是男人的洩欲工具。你有爱情？你有感觉？男人都不在乎。你们最好知道，一被玩厌了就是同样的下场。 爱情是没保证，但做第三者，简直是自寻烦恼。除非犯贱，否则，何必呢 当时，作为一个男人，我是无任欢迎的。 Patrick Patrick： 看罢你的信，我在想：你，真是个看不诏眼的男性；还是个，别有用心的女性？ 假如是前者，我想问你，你觉得那些甘愿做第三者的女孩子那麼容易被骗，那麼可怜？你的态度又是那麼的高高在上，沾沾自喜，你有没有想过，其实，可怜的，未必是被骗的她们，而定骗人的我们呢？ 施比受更有福，但要骗人的，却从来比被骗的悲哀。你想想，你说的方程式，老千计，虽然所费无几，但做起来，还不是劳心劳力。看日出，不是要早起的 吗？扮依依不舍，那怎可不算是讲大话？我们追逐新鲜的胴体，就如赛狗追逐电兔，为了几秒的抽搐和快惑，扭尽六壬。我做不到「看破，放下，自在」，却实在不 敢笑女孩子蠢。被性欲操纵著的还要笑被感情迷惑著的，实在是对人类的最大讽刺。 Patrick，容许我说，你享受欺骗感情，多於新鲜胴体；否则，妓女已可满足你的需要。你不是禽兽，你是贱；禽兽没你变态。 假如是後者，Patrick原来是位女士的话，那我为你曾经受到的伤害感到难过。你对第三者的痛恨我完全感受到，但要完全抹煞一和三之间可以有爱的可能，再写一千封信也做不到，不要再骗自己了。 各位亲爱的读者，你们又觉得Patrick是男是女呢？我，实在不敢肯定。 倪震

wow, this guy is really sharp and smart! no wonder Vivian falls for him hard!!

阿。。这个很倒胃口阿

I just read the story in English.

Very gut-wrenching...Recommend everyone to read...

http://jimwillis0.tripod.com/tiergarten/id21.html

When I was a puppy I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" - but then you'd relent and roll me over for a bellyrub.

My housetraining took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed, listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" - still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch - because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would have defended them with my life if need be.

I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams. Together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

Now you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog or cat, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.

After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you - that you had changed your mind - that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table, rubbed my ears and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.

She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself - a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. With my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not meant for her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

The End