Spaceman

I was lying in bed late one night. I had just gotten back from grabbing bottled water from down stairs. I had a screaming headache and I just wanted to get to sleep. A light beamed into my window. All I could think about was the damn neighbor putting on his outside lights on. I rolled over to find myself a new comfortable position. The light continued to beam into my room. Angrily, I threw my pillow in the direction of my window. But I didn't hear it hit anything. In fact, I couldn't hear anything. I rolled over and opened my eye. My room was lit up, but yet I couldn't see anything. Suddenly, the room went black and I could hear the noises of my house again. I didn't think much of it, so I slammed my head back on the pillow and went back to attempt sleep.

I began to slowly fall back to sleep. But everything felt funny. A bit of weightlessness. I tried rolling over to find a new comfortable position, but I couldn't. In fact it was very had to. I opened my eyes again and noticed I wasn't in my bed. In fact, I wasn't in my room. I was slowly floating up into a spaceship that was hovering over my house. Now, you must be thinking how full of shit I am, Doc, but I swear they took me up to that spaceship. Yes, they did. I was kidnapped by aliens. Not the border hoppers, I'm talking extra terrestrials.

After I arrived in the ship, they had me in this room. Now, they weren't doing any probing or anything. In fact they were just watching me. I wish I could tell you what they looked like but, it's very hard to describe something that is much more complex than you and I are. I'll tell you this though, they didn't have any crazy tentacles, or multiple limbs or eyes, and they weren't slimy creatures either. They were existing entities. They told me to follow them to another room, but they didn't say it, it was almost telepathic, but I didn't hear anyone inside my head. It was all instinctively done.

I entered another room, which was just pure white. The purist of white you can imagine. I cannot say how big the room was because it felt like it had no dimensions. There was a girl, sitting in the room. I walked over to her. She looked up at me with these dark blue eyes that just hypnotize you. She said hello. I said hello back. She asked me my name. I told her my name was Norm and then she smiled at me. She stood up and said how it was nice to meet me.

Now, Doc, I'm pretty damn certain she was an angel. She was just that mesmerizing. She had these golden lock steaming from her head down to her shoulder. The fairest of skins; smooth, no wrinkles, no scares, no marks. Nothing. Simply: Perfect.

She began to walk around me, examining me. Now, I certainly wasn't in my Sunday best. I hadn't shaved in a week and I was my boxers and a t-shirt. But I had to know. "What's your name?" I asked

"Cora." she answered.

"Cora? I like it. Where you from? Detroit? Maybe Cleveland?"

"I don't come from Earth. In fact, I don't live in this galaxy at all. I live far away."

"Would you consider the move to this part of the universe? I mean, I don't know about the bordering community, but, I mean, it seems like a decent area. Prime real estate? To be honest, I couldn't fathom comparing this galaxy with another." She stared at me blankly. These pickup lines don't usually work and they were not too successful for this "out of this world" kinda girl... Yes, Doc, it was a pun...

She began to walk away from. I decided to follow seeing how I found myself in this unknown place. I found myself overlooking the universe. The vast complexity of everything overwhelmed me but yet stimulated and heightened my sight. The speed in which things happen are beyond what word can ever describe. But, yet, at the same time, the ability to slow it all down and witness the unexplainable, profound miracles that one simply just cannot witness. It's not that we're too blind to see it, but it's just that everything happens so fast that we can't digest it or even realize it ever happened. And if we were to, it would be long forgotten to us...

"Why am I here, Cora?" I asked.

"Why do you think you are here?"

"Well, I'll tell ya, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I don't have to save a planet..." The blank stares were killing me... Apparently, the rest of the universe is more civil than you think. There are no Darth Vader’s or evil Klingons. I was kind of happy.

She told me, that there was much for us to learn. To them, we are the new neighbors that just moved in. They want to make sure that we keep the house looking nice so we don't make the neighborhood look run down. Doc, the way things are going, we are those neighbors that are just making things look shitty. We're driving the property values down and the outlying universes are none too pleased.

In all honestly, I fell in love with her or whatever she was. I wait outside, late some nights, hoping she’d come back, but she never shows. We probably won’t meet again. It’s too bad, we might hit it off. I wonder if she’s into hiking… Anyways, Doc, I don’t want to bore you with my hopeless romanticism with a bodacious alien woman. I’ll leave you with that. Next week, I tell you how I help a group of mutineers fight off an evil galactic empire in a galaxy far, far away… I’m just kidding. Things like that don’t happen…

Shit That Pisses Me Off: REBOOT

Last spring, I came up with a delectable list of things in life that piss me off. But, I left that strictly to the Facebook viewers. So, like Hollywood, I am going to reboot one of my greatest literary works of art. I feel this way because, it was so good the first time, I have to absolutely murder it. Tonight, I will write another one.

Number one:  Ever make a plan with someone and then suddenly when you try to get into contact, they don't respond. Now, I'm not talking about getting ditched. Totally different scenarios. I'm talking about, "Hey, let's do something on Monday." Then Monday comes around and you're all, "What time you want to meet, bitch?" and then suddenly a few hours pass and you're like, "Fuck this, I'm getting my nails done." It just pisses me off you can't get into contact with this person. And you know this isn't the type of person that's hard to get into contact with. There that person that has the cell phone fused into their fucking skin and you just wonder how the fuck they are not responding. Apparently, I'm on the fucking waiting list. All is right, bro. Get back to me when you can. I'll have an open day waiting and ready for your convenience. NBD.

Which moves me to Number two: I was cruising the Facebook news feed late one night and I saw some dude wrote how he was ditched by his friends and now he knows who is his real friends... I'm sorry, you are a grown ass man. You do not post that shit on Facebook. Sorry, ladies, but man, that is fucking girl thing to do. I hate getting ditched too, but holy fucking shit. Take the tampon out of your vagina and get over it. You're a dude. You have video games to play to replace that "lost" time. You could also go jerk it somewhere, if you are that bored. But don't write on Facebook like a little bitch that you got ditched by your "boyz" and now you know your real friends are! There is a reason why they probably ditched you... Just sayin, man. Don't hate the players, hate yourself.

Thrice: I hate driving. It is the least comfortable thing I like to do on a regular basis. It's about as comfortable as apply Preparation H to your bulging hemorrhoid.... But, that's just me. Anyways, I put on some good millage weekly and I have a great car for that. It also allows me to be very road rageish. Often time, I am driving on a 2 lane highway. The speed limit is roughly 60 MPH which is pitifully slow. Seeing how I have a size 13 shoe, my feet get very heavy on the peddle and I suddenly find my cruise control stuck at 80. I've got place to go, people to see, and lives to ruin. That is a comfortable speed for me to drive at. So when I'm cruising along and I get stuck behind some dumb fuck ass clown just kinda hanging out in the passing lane. I flip my fucking shit. I swear to fucking Christ Almighty himself, I will ram your fucking car off the road. I shit you not. Why can't people just move their ugly asses out of my way? I mean for real. If you you see a car drive at a high rate speed, move the fuck out of the way, once I pass you, you can move back. Holy fucking goat testicles! Not fucking hard man.

Four: I've had a lot of heart break in my life... Not really, but I've made some passes at some hotties with bodies, and well, it proved to be not so successful. I can take a hint when a girl is showing little to know interest with me. In fact, I feel like I can sense it now... But that's not the point. What pisses me off, is when a dumb, crazy, psychotic female, takes an interest in me. Happens all too often. But when I let them down gently that I'm not interested, they don't really get the hint. So then I become a total fucking ass, and well then they get all bitchy at me. I'm sorry, I thought, "I'm not interested" was like a good hint, but that wasn't the case, so I was left with no choice to tell you look like you have a severe case of the downs... It's not my fault. You keep saying stupid shit like, "Snuggle with me. I promise I won't rape you." I mean, right there is alarming for me to hear. And if you were at least a bit attractive, I might let you, but the fact of the matter is, you look like a disfigured hippo and I will not stand for that. No means, no.

Five: People who WRitE LiKE thiS TO shOw ThEiR cReativITY. Not WORking. In fACt it'S MAKinG mE hAVE A fucKINg SeIzUrES. ThANKS foR THAt AssHOle.


SIX: The Occupy Moment. I wrote a blog that voiced my opinion. I feel I said enough about them dirty bums.

Seven:  I have a co-worker. I will not say its name, so I can protect the identity of said person. I will not mention when He is a he or if she is a she or a she/he, he/she and/or she or he or he or she. Whatever combo you want to go with. Anyways, this person is like mildly retarded. I can't stress enough how I work in a shoe store, so I won't. We get boxes of shoes, and I tell said person how I would like them to do the shipment. Spend a few hours in the backroom and just open boxes. Then size them into the back stock. Amazed they were with this idea, they agreed that this would be much easier... Every fucking week, I see shoe boxes in places they should not be in. I hear stories of how said person brings a box out at a time. I make out floor maps every month and still shit is fucked up. I draw pictures and diagrams, photograph, show, and even do half the work, and still shit gets messed up. I need to thank them for this job security, but I can't because I know that Ted William's head could get more shit done than this dumb fuck... The next fuck up, I'm taking old yeller out back to the barn.

Eight: I hate doing group work. I always get stuck having to coordinate everything. I just get stuck in that group that just kind of dicks off. And there's always that cute girl in the group you want to impress with your brilliance but then you find out another group member is fucking her after class... Always heart breaking... (side note: if that actually ever happened, I would kick the shit outta that dude. Who the fuck does that? Totally fucking rude, bro) Anyways, when you're in my group, I have 2 rules: Do your shit and bounce ideas around, I don't care how ridiculous something may sound, but if you bounce the idea around 9 times, it become a brilliant idea. Don't just say, it's a good idea. Doesn't fucking work like that. Bounce that fucking shit around.

Nine: People who looking fucking depressed all the time. Fucking smile, man or go slit you wrist. We don't want your kind around. I'd hire an illegal Mexican before I hire someone who looks fucking depressed all the time.

Ten: Sheryl Fucking Crow!! She pisses me off. Her music pisses me off? How do people like her? She's friends with a communist... She came out about it in one of her songs, bro. Why would you like communists? No, really, why would you like communists?

Eleven, Twelve, and Thirteen: Facebook is a great place to connect with people. I post a lot of Facebook statuses. Don't ask me why I do it. It's mainly a lot of random jargon, and sometimes like and impulse. Anyways, when I post something on a hourly basis, and I get notifications of the same fucking person like every other status I put up, I get just get annoyed. And it's always a fucking like. Listen, you don't have to like every single status. I don't need that type of recognition. I don't need to you to like the 14 of the 17 statuses that I have up. Not necessary. Give someone else a chance to like something, because I swear to God, you are scaring any potential "likers" away, you sick, twisted, demented fuck. Don't abuse the like button!! Then there are those type of people who have to write a comment to every single thing you say as if you can relate or they do it because it pertains to them. I don't care!! I can have a long conversation with someone, then there's this one odd ball comment, that I'm trying to figure out why this person had to say something. Then I get into a long thought on why I care about this person. There usually the type of person who will chime in during a hyped up political rant. Suddenly, "I like turtles" pops up. Or sometimes if I'm going off about, say how something pisses me off and then, "Oh, I hope you're not talking about me..." Well I fucking am now! In fact, I'm thinking about running over to your house to throw your computer out the fucking window. Then maybe chop off you shitty, stubby little fingers too. That'll teach you you dumb fuck. How about those people who break out into a conversation like this, "So, I wrote this status on Facebook and..." or "Oh, guess who wrote on their wall?" or "did you see my status?" or "Well, on Facebook..." (Usually the older generation). You, know, I'm on Facebook a lot, so I may have seen it. Please reframe from bringing it up in the social world. I don't need to hear about a status you wrote, I can read it if I want too.When I don't have my computer, I like to be social in a social atmosphere, not insert Facebook every where I can. I'm not that bent on it.






Old Rants

1. I hate when people text you at 3 AM telling you that they can't sleep. I'm sorry, What the fuck do you expect me to do in my half comatose state? Care? Then you text them back trying to attempted sympathy and say, “oh I'm sorry...” Then you wait around for them to respond. But little do you realize, that that simple text saying they couldn't sleep, exhausted them to the point of falling asleep leaving you alone and wide the fuck awake at 3AM. New rule: if your dead or dying, lost, hurt, or any form of disfigurement, wait till the morning. After 12 and until 10am, I don't give a shit.
2. I am going to go off about things on facebook that piss me off... Why? Just cause I can. Duh. Silly goblin. Alright, to all those people I friend request. Will you make a Goddamn decision like someones life fucking depended on it. Let me tell you the concept of a friend request. Now, I want to be your friend. Be fucking honored. Now, I don't give a fat fuck's dick if you accept my request or not. I won't be insulted if you decline it. Just make a fucking decision. I don't want to see you pop up in my news feed and find out that you're still deciding whether you wanna be my friend. When someone request to me my friend (which is rarely) I make a fucking decision in about an hour or two. Right after I do a background check and shit like that. BUT I MAKE A FUCKING DECISION! I don't leave you hanging guessing for a month or two. Holy fucking rice cakes. Make a decision, so my neighbor with a social interaction disorder doesn't flip his shit on me anymore.
3. I remember, back in the day, when MYSPACE was cool. And you knew you were fucking cool when you had like 62,984 friends. Even if like 4 of them, you actually talked to. Now, in today’s apparent “New World Order,” if you have like 500 friends on facebook, we have this complex that, that's too many friend. And we need to get that number as low as possible. Now, I'm slow on thing and I get into fads like 4 months after they've gone and passed. Since when did having too many facebook friend was a bad thing. I mean, if 94% of them you don't talk to, who still cares. I mean, Don't delete me if my posts are annoying or insulting. Just ignore me. It's just insulting knowing that I'm not facebook friend worthy. The on that fateful day we bump into you, there's the fucking awkward feeling and the desire to ask the burning question... "So, hey man, why did you defriend me?" See there's a little X in the corner of my posts, you can hide all my posts and you can totally just forget I exist. Or.... (you'll like this one) Don't accept my goddamn friend request!
4. During my “I'm bored, I need to creep on facebook” moods I've come across some funny things. Like when girls post shit on other girls walls saying, “You're a stupid hoe. Go kill yourself.” or “you're ugly. You have no friends” (even though they have way more facebook friends than the antagonist) “you're a worthless piece of shit...” etc... Now listen, I am friends with people on facebook that I don't like and I'm sure those same people don't like me either. I'm fine with that. Now, I'm not gonna write how I hate them or how they are ugly and should go die. And I haven't gotten any post from them about what an arrogant prick I am either. Why? Cuz we don't give a shit. It's a mutual feeling of not giving a shit towards each other. It's called being fucking civilized. Peace starts at not giving a shit about other people differences.

I Have a Dream

My father has a saying; "Picture yourself in 10 years. Now try to figure out how to get there." So I pictured myself as a filmmaker. I even got as far as picturing myself as the director of the 50th Anniversary James Bond film. I had it planned out too. I even wrote a fucking screenplay. Two drafts actually. Followed by 2 planned sequels to round out a trilogy. It would have been off the wall. I had the whole trilogy planned out in high school. Train chases, car chases, even a fucking show down at an airport. Then Casino Royale took that idea from me... and I got upset... So come next year, I get to see this guy, direct this movie, and fantasize how, "it could have been me!!"

I've changed a bit since then (sort of). I would still like to one day direct a James Bond film, however, I couldn't figure out how to reach that point. I feel like, being able to accomplish that goal, is more like sheer luck. But talk about a rude awakening. And it's a sad feeling when all your dreams are crushed. And it's not like someone told me I couldn't do it. It's perfectly possible to. It's just I couldn't figure out how to get from point A to point B. Then, there was the fear of failure... and the "I Told You So" speech from my Dad.

Today, I still have no fucking clue what I want to do with my life. So many damn choices. There's still this school boy crush on becoming a filmmaker, and who's to say that'll never happen, just today it's not going to. Today, I am going to take a few PR classes and some Poli Sci classes and see where that takes me. Maybe, I'll become president, then a filmmaker. I'm allowed to have more than one career and I'm shooting for a minimum of 2 so, president is certainly not entirely out of the question. I'm just going to make sure I dot my T's and cross my I's so I have no baggage come election time. I'd hate for anyone to find one of my bogus racist/ignorant rants on the interweb... Totally an image killer...

Another dream I have is to be the oldest man in the world. Not entirely sure why I want to be that old, but I do. Well, I suppose I don't want to be miserably that old. I want to be a youthful 130 year old. Think about it. How awesome would it be to actually see fly cars? Think about sitting by the fire place telling all your grand kids majestic stories of your younger days while the eat it all up as fact. I'm so gonna alter the shit out of my stories. "Yeah, kids, I remember this one time when I was young, there was this evil president who forged an evil ring and ruled all of Earth with it. Me and a few rebel forged a fellowship called, 'The Rebel Alliance.' No, no, no, we didn't occupy no Wall Street. We were smart about this. We brought the battle to them and battled wits and dueled to our fates. The good side of force obviously prevailed. No big deal. And that's when I fell in love with your beautiful grandmother..." My friend keeps telling me to do things "for the story." Fuck that, I can just life my life vicuriously through you and then make up my own. Ever see the movie Big Fish? No? Check it out.

Now, I feel like I have to end things with a little uplifting statement, just so I can show the world that I am indeed capable of showing a little humility. Positive words of encouragement... That was it... What? You thought I was going to say something like, "never let someone tell you you're dreaming too big, because if you're not dreaming big, you're not dreaming at all" or something like that...? C'mon, fill in the blanks, bro.

The Little Things

I had an ex-girlfriend. Ugly as a mule. There were sins created in the name of her. "Thy shall not be damn ugly." But, damn, she was ugly. But this story is not about her being so damn ugly. In fact this is a tale of a different sort. There was an incident that never happened...and it sort of goes like this...

I had just recently got accepted to Bridgewater State University. I was walking around campus one day, and in the near distant I saw someone who looked familiar. She looked at me as if I was a familiar face. I walked away immediately because I didn't want to face the fear of seeing my ex-girlfriend who I assumed was this person. I got the fuck out of Dodge.

Later that night, I was scoping around the Facebook world and allowing the technology to flow from my fingertips like rapid swirling Maelstrom and ingesting it as such. Suddenly, I received a message on Facebook from her. She had asked me what I was doing on campus. I responded by saying that I was receiving a college education there. She then asked why I was going to that school. Not sure what kind of an answer she was looking for, I decided to spice it up. I told her, "I am yearning to see her again and regain the passionate love we once had. I figured this was my only opportunity to seize what belonged to mine. You are my soul mate and I can never lose you again. I'm like a ravaging pit-bull waiting to be freed and show you my truest form of love." Another message came back to me from her boyfriend, who I have never met in my life. He didn't seem to enjoy my take on romanticism. He informed me that I was to "never talk to his girlfriend again or else he was going to kill me." Like, I've never heard that one before. I was taken aback by this and utterly crushed by my one true love. The ferocious fire of love ran through my veins. I couldn't take this kind of rejection. I had to seek out my vengeance. And the one thing I knew that he and I had in common was the places we've traveled down to. I replied back: "How does my dick taste?"

Around 2 in the morning, my father cam staggering into my room. He shook me awake telling me we were going to police station. I had no idea what was happening. I got up and threw some clothes on and headed out into the world so early in the morning.

When we arrived at the police station, my dad had bumped into one of the tenants whose renting out my old house. They began to talk about the incident that happened. We walked into the police station and into someone’s office to file police reports. Still unbeknownst to me of what is going on, I overhear one of them saying how this guy picked the wrong house to fight 3 Coast Guard personal. I wasn't awake enough to figure out the story, so I left the office and headed to the waiting room for the reports to be filed. When I walked out to the waiting room, there was a girl sitting and waiting. Ugly as a mule. It was the ex-girlfriend.

When my, "how does my dick taste," message was received, the ex-girlfriend how to explain to her troubled boyfriend of our once intimate lifestyle. He was enraged by this that he demanded to know where I lived. She wasn't about to tell him, but after a few blows to the temple with his mighty fists, she gave in. When he arrived at my former house, he kicked the door in and searched me out. He didn't get far after being tackled by the 3 Coast Guard guys that are currently renting my place.

I sat next to this sad little girl in this poorly lit waiting room. She looked up and saw me smiling deviantly at her. Her face turned to disgust. "This is your fault," she claimed.

"I have absolutely no idea what you speak of. In fact, I'm completely stunned seeing you here. What brings you here at this strange hour?”

"Oh, you know, my boyfriend broke into a house and got the shit kicked out of him 3 guys..."

"Well, that is what happens when you break into people’s homes. Listen, sweetheart, he sounds very misplaced in life and I'm not entirely sure he knows where is spiritually. This is going to be very tough for him. Are you even sure this is the type of guy you want to share your children with. Nice black eye, by the way. Did you slip on ice?"

“You set this all up because you want me back.”

“Come again? I don’t want you back. I’d rather have shingles or hemorrhoids. Nowhere in my life plan does it have you reenter my life. I mean, maybe a few one night stands that I’ll regret and probably a pregnancy scare or two, but nowhere do I see you…”

“Well, why else would this happen?”

“Fuck if I know!”

We argued for another 20 minutes before the officer overheard us. He walked in and saw what the ex-girlfriend was going and arrested her for “intimidating a witness.” She kicked and screamed while the officer carried her in the back where all the jail cells were. After sitting around doing nothing, I decided to fill out a restraining order to kill time. It’s the little things in life…

Great White Buffalo

I'm going to be straight forward with you, this blog is about women. I know, I know. I rant about women all the time and I am completely sorry for being redundant. It's just, they're so easy and vulnerable. Listen, I promise this isn't a "I hate women" speech. I mean, after all, regardless of how dumb they may be at times, who else is going to make you dinner and clean up after you? Duh, they're a necessity... And this is why I am single... I fucked up, Mom... Take me in tonight?

I was sitting in a classroom and not paying any worthwhile attention to my professor. The class was Social Problems. I do a lot of thinking in that class. Usually, I think about how to topple a government in a Coup d'état, which girl I would bone, and why the girl with one ear has only one ear... So, I happened to be thinking about which girl in class I would bone and in which order. And then it dawned on me. You can literally throw girls into random groups that will meet your philosophical preference. And I wanted to share to the world how my ignorant, sexists mind categorized women... And I know that one day, this blog will come back to bite me in the left testicle and prevent me from making ignorant, sexists offspring... It might be a warm blessing in disguise too. Who knows... Either way, I'm going to Hell for this blog...

The "Ugly Girl" type: You're fucking heinous looking! This is the type of girl that when you look at her, your sperm count drops to 0. Ugh! Ugly as a mule. I'm sorry, if you look this way. It's not even remotely close to being your fault. It's just terrible genetics. I'm sure you'll find someone one day, who will make you feel like Cinderella, but it's just not me. In fact, I'm not even gonna tap that with a ten foot pole. I'm sorry, my penis has shriveled up and it does not want to come out to play. Actually, I'm going to have a pretty hard time convincing it to come out to play with me now... Thanks for that... 

But her face!!!: "Wow! That girl is fucking banging, man. What a fucking ass she's got. Damn! The things I would do to that." Woman turns around, revealing a not so average face. "Boner, gone. Nope, actually, it still has a bit of some life to it. Meh." Yeah, we've all been there. Yes, I'm saying all, and this reaches out to women. How many lesbians do you think have had that thought? Yes, even the butch looking kinds. This is basically that kind of girl where if you're extremely desperate to push her shit in, there probably wouldn't be much of a problem with that. It's totally odd seeing someone from behind having so much potential and then when you see that face, all hope just goes poof! Now, the situation can play out in different ways. One that I have always feared and have almost fallen into this, goes sort of like this. So there's this girl. She is totally crazy for you and you are showing little to no interest in them. She calls you, texts you, IMs you. Basically, borderline stalker. She even throws out stupid comments that make it way to obvious that she has some serious lady wood for you. Comments like: "Well, I like you... I mean, I would date you... Uhh... I'm so ugly..." That would be awkward...  Anyways, depending on how creepy she is, dive right in you desperate son of gun, you. Just, don't get attached, because that would make holiday dinner really awkward.

I'm not actually sure I have to explain myself here. Basically, if your name is Jessica Jane Clement or have anything that may resemble her, or be a very good fill in, then you fit this category. Oh the things I would do. I would buy her a platter of cookies to see if I could make her fat.

This is probably going to sound extremely corny, but I am going to go there. I can't give a name to this next type of girl, but I sure can describe the hell out of her. This girl is basically, your best friend. She knows you inside and out. You can talk to her about anything. She sometimes acts like to total retard and you begin to question everything when she does this in public. Eventually, you forget about it. Best part, she can be either extremely gorgeous or she could look like she got hit in the face with a brick on a weekly basis. I'm mean that last part is highly unrealistic. The point, I guess is, looks don't really matter. 

From personal experience, I've noticed that this person usually comes and goes. Maybe they move to another world away, or you just lose touch with them entirely. I have valued these people more than anything. They worked very well as eye candy too. I'll be honest, I'm pretty shallow, and the only persons that can fit this role if you have some sort of eye candy quality. Guilty. 

But I think on a serious note though, I will say that, this character doesn't come around too often. There's always going to be an ugly girl, or a butterface, or a fucking bodacious hottie that you want to have crazy sex with. But, that one person who you can always turn to when times are rough or to bring a little sense of serenity to your world, that is something rare. If you ever find them, don't let them go.

p.s.

This Blog is dedicated to Emma Watson. One day we will meet and I will creep the fucking shit out of you.