Getting Lost in the Grip

Re-birthing ceremonies are all about beating an adult inside a canvas bag, but the metaphor still works, when I come out the other side of a year it's a re-birthing ceremony. I don't know who that other person was. He looks the same, and has a better haircut, but I don't know him. If we met we'd be friends, but not besties.

One thing I think I'd like to do is pork Zooey Deschanel. Sex Sex Sex Sex Sex.
That was crude and not even that true. I like to imagine she's dumb and makes really bad choices. It makes it easier to break off our fictional relationship. She probably has a stupid diet and no concept of money anymore. She probably thinks all sorts of esoteric music is really good, well guess what, my esoteric music is better. Way better.

Bad boys get the girls, and I own four bicycles. Bicycles are like the efficiency's way of telling the world that I'm a dork. I wish that nerd thing would come back into fashion; you know, where nerds are the new cool. Thing is, I'm a border-liner. Can't be pigeonholed. I'm way to big. But I can put my fingers into like four or five pigeonholes at once and then not go on a date for a long time.