It was a damp rainy day. Everything was raining, even my cat. Something smells of urine... You walked into the door, and into my life. Pretty sure the urine smell followed... No, These pants weren�t always soiled. i reminisce of a calm, cathartic time where men did not live in fear for their lives. Yes, once upon a time, there was a timely time where men and women lived peacefully together, a time where birds chirped, and a time where urine went in the toilet, not in my pants. Until you... and your gun.
Thirteen months ago, the heroin of this story, Woman Luvalot enters the scene. One smile and the chicken i was eating decided now would be the perfect time to choke the living crap out of me. Should have been a sign, foreshadowing what is meant to be. She walked up to me, making the assumption that i know where her textbooks are. Meanwhile brain fights with heart over what comes first, reason or romance.
�Twas a gruesome battle. Brain comprehends certain absolute truths, while heart understands only nothing at all. So they both have their ups and downs, you know because getting flattened like a pug�s face is understandably the greatest experience in one�s adolescent life. Then again there�s the brain with its knowledge... but i say screw the brain (eat Oreos). On this particular battlefield earth (great movie and lifelong companion) heart took out mp5 navy and shot three rounds, that�s 90 bullets into Mr. Teammate, the brain. While Krang babbled about how he didn�t want to die, Shredder just said "Fire in the hole!!!" and proceeded to stuff a flashbang up his frontal lobe.
Now that that has been made entirely clear, i can get back to the point of this story. Woman was filled with gratitude when some inhumane punishment from Hell actually led me to the correct book case. So, i felt now was a good time to make my move, before brain awoke from his beating. If only God had been awake during this part of my life, His mercy would not have allowed me to buy her books and invite her to "go over to my place and play some video games."
We arrive at my house after a short walk, and as she sits on the sofa, i death-march over to my Playstation 2 console. Dead or Alive 2 was the name of the game, and I have always perceived myself as a big fat thorny land gnome. Apparently she did too, but brain was still unconscious and had not yet noted under "Things to remember!!!!!!!!!! If you don�t you will die!!!" section. Wishing certain information had been bestowed upon me prior to previous invitation, Ms. Luvnothing decides that she has known all along that she knows video games are for know-nothing nerds. So instead i remove her sandals and wash her feet with scented oils. i thoroughly enjoyed performing this task, but the scent of those oils will never depart from these hands i fear. She left that night after a cup of freshly brewed my-blood, and i would not see her again for two days.
After i awaken, two days later, i call the number she so graciously tattooed to my arm with the end of her branding iron. "Woman" says i, and then proceeded to invite her, with an insane amount of thought and brilliance, to movie and a dinner. We came to movie consensus after she claimed she would only accompany me on this venture were we to see "I Hate You a Lot Die Die Die Like a Monkey in a Testing Facility." After an odd movie with no point as far as my comprehension, we went back to her house for a barbecue she insisted i would enjoy. We sat down at the candelit table, she took off the blindfold, and served what she informed me to be her favorite delicacy: pig�s head on a stick.
i prepare to head back to the outer-city, wherein lies my house, when Woman informs me that the wood needed to repair my boat will not arrive for a minimum of two weeks. This results in my stumbling back into her lair, wading through piles of golden treasures calling out "Woman!!?!?! Where did you put my silver slippers?!?!" She calls out to me, allowing the knowledge of her whereabouts; the living room. As i gently navigate myself into that good night that is the presence of Woman, Brain�s consciousness waxes. i start to THINK that perhaps this relationship is entirely one-sided, then the waning.
My presence becomes found by the living room, and i ignorantly misconceive the reasons my heart could possibly pulsate so quickly. This is love, i feel. Woman is sitting in an ominous chair. On the wall, at her right hand lies an authentic "Luvalot" painting entitled, "The Nazarene." Without a word she delivers to my person the materials necessary to vacate her premises. From that point on, getting out of bed to use the restroom just doesn�t seem worth it anymore.