I want an analog woman,

infinitely adjustable, none of that digital shit, merely off and on, yes and no, in and out. I want infinite settings and an ocean of probabilities. I want a big brown knob that I can tweak to my heart’s content until I get things tuned just right. I want to try different flavors, different toppings, a la mode. I want light hot licks on long cold nights. I want platitudes and attitudes. I want moveable walls. I don’t want sixteen colors on two-bit logic. I want an infinite degree of separation between infrared and ultraviolet and an innumerable number of paths between them, just like that rainbow up there always perpendicular to your line of sight no matter from what angle you approach it, and not there at all when you really need it. Rainbows rule in an imaginary world, though practically worthless in real life. Women are a lot like that. Men probably are, too, if you’re a woman.