Monday, January 24, 2011

The Distance to Here

Yeah, that's right...the title is an obscure late-period Live album, so blow me.

What I wanted to write about tonight has nothing to do with the Bears loss to the Packers in the NFC championship game today (Pussy is a Jay Cutler - The Sulk), nor is about the episode of Jersey Shore I am currently watching (Sitch and Ronnie are cooking frozen meat on the grill at 3 in the am), instead it will be about my personal philosophy that tends to expand, broaden and change with each passing day...

I had a breakthrough recently. It's about love. Not that sappy version of love where John Cusak is holding the boom box over his head, but something even better.
Better than this?

Yeah better than that douchebag playing that horrible Peter Gabriel song on his boom box outside Diane Cort's window as Frasier's dad has nightmares about ripping off the elderly.

...but I digress...

Love is hard, and that is a good thing. Truth is, I love my girlfriend Lauren to pieces. This is the truth. Although things aren't ideal for either of us, we still are able to care and nuture each other in ways that are foriegn to me. This isn't to knock the long terms before her (or perhaps it is a bloody inditment of those said priors, nobody knows for sure). The love I feel for the girl is bar none and that I believe, my dear few readers, is someething to shout from the heavens.

I love Lauren O'Leary, the sweet Irish lass. Who knew she would have picked a German sheep in wolf's cloathing like yours truly. Maybe we'll know when Cthulu comes to town...

In Your R'lyehs

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