Warren had heard the story since he was a tadpole. Evidently there was a princess and she was looking for a prince and when she found a frog with a crown on its head, she kissed it and voila in a puff of smoke, he became a prince, blah, blah, blah. Warren's problem was that every young girl for miles around had evidently heard the same story.
Every year, a fresh crop of young girls would show up at the pond looking for their prince. They would come in pairs or small groups but, never alone. As they approached the water, the girls would giggle and laugh as they looked for frogs and in the event that they found one, they would dare each other to kiss the poor amphibian. The girls never ever kissed the frogs. Eventually, when they were finished playing and had lost interest, they would dispose of the frog by dropping it unceremoniously back into the water. The quick dismissal was what really bothered Warren the most. The girls were completely immersed in their own desires and never thought of the frog. The frog was just a prop in their games. They were all the same.
Not once had warren ever been kissed and in all probability he never would. That my friends is why Warren didn't like girls.