Ronnie Milsap/Kris Kristofferson and Rita Coolidge, “Please Don’t Tell Me How the Story Ends

 

“Please Don’t Tell Me How the Story Ends,” by Ronny Milsap. Supposedly a big hit in 1974, except I’ve never even heard of it! There’s also a Willie Nelson version.

The song itself was written by Kris Kristofferson, the great songwriter. I believe he wrote it for Ronnie Milsap. Here’s Kris Kristofferson and Rita Coolidge performing it live. What’s odd about this performance is that they performed this just as their marriage was ending. Look in Rita’s eyes. Hell, look in Kris’ eyes.  They both look sad, but Rita looks sad as Hell. It took her a long time to get over Kris Kristofferson. That’s why she was single for so long after she broke up with him. Wasn’t she beautiful though?

See how Kris is dressed? See how his hair is cut? That’s how we wore our hair and dressed in the 1970’s. Faggy shirts, faggy pants, faggy long hair, the whole faggy nine yards. We even sort of acted like fags. Well, just a little bit. More like Mick Jagger/Iggy Pop pure androgynes if you catch my drift. Women really went for pure androgynes like that bigtime.

The idea back then was dress like a fag, sort of act like a fag (but not too much), play your cards right, add in some good looks and killer game, and you’ll get lots of pussy! So that’s what we did. We dressed like a bunch of faggots, acted a little tiny bit faggy, and, well, some of us…got lots of pussy! And almost none of us were the slightest bit gay either! Because you know, that was a bridge too far back then. As it should be.

I swear men will do anything women demand they do to get laid. If women made us stand on our head for two hours while counting backwards from 100 in order to get laid, a lot of us idiots would probably just do it. The feminists have got it all wrong. The women have us by the balls, not the other way around. They write the rules, we play the game. They can change the rules all the want, and we’ll follow like pathetic puppy dogs. When you’re a pussy addict, the pussy dealers (the women) can play you like a fiddle. And most of us fool men will do anything for a fix, just like any old addict.

C’est la vie!

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