Many think the concept of love is not amenable to one authoritative definition. Philosophy and Religion have speculated for centuries, and recently psychologists, biologists, anthropologists and neuroscientists have added to the debate and made it as complicated as a transvestite's make up bag.
Curiously this is the most appropriate definition for love. Like a Tranny Bag, love contains mystery, colour, illusion, and an enormous amount of chemicals.
The possible combinations of the ingredients are colossal. Most people's love ends up looking like Jordan (aka Katie Price); all the bits are there but deep down you still know it's a bloke. Often love is a Danny La Rue or a Lilly Savage; a passable definition, strangely attractive, but wont stand up to meticulous scrutiny.
Occasionally things can go really wrong and you get Norman Wisdom in a dress with only crudely applied blue eye shadow as a concession to femininity. This is disastrous as only the very cruel and terminally mean could kick the hapless Wisdom out on to the streets. And so this loves endures until one party dies, and we all know Norman is indestructible.
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