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Ahhh…Spring. When a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of romantic love; of quiet times spent with his Lady Fair; leisurely strolls through the park while exchanging meaningful glances…
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Welcome to Hell !!!
More likely you’ll meet some psychotic chick on MySpace who begs you to add her as your friend. Then you two will start to send IM’s back and forth - all very innocent and above-board.
But not for long.
You’ll discover some common interests, like pulling wings off butterflies, or that you both collect killing jars from eBay. A shared passion for poisons, perhaps, or a mutual admiration for the grislier moments in history - for instance, you’ll both chuckle long and loud over the exploits of Jack the Ripper.
Then, it hits you - you’re only 15 miles away from this wonderful woman! You quick fire off another IM, asking her to meet for coffee Friday night.
Done!
With mounting anticipation, you drive for this fateful first meeting. Will it be Kismet or kiss-off? The sweat flows from your armpits like molten lava from the fifth ring of Hell. Finally, you arrive at the coffee shop - half an hour ahead of time. You mindlessly cruise through the book stalls (every coffee shop has books, and every bookstore has coffee - just another indication of Satan’s successful invasion of our times!) when suddenly, without warning, a vision appears in front of you…
A vision of beauty, of ultimate femininity and grace. Her eyes like hot coals burn into your soul, her ruby lips a target too inviting for words. Hoping against hope, you fumble out your replies to her questions as you try not to burn your tongue on the double-mocha latte cappuccino with non-fat sugar and hazelnut soy milk (another sign of The Dark Lord’s presence - you can’t just buy coffee anymore).
Well, things go well in spite of your awkwardness as she calls you for a second date. She seems somewhat more…reserved…this time. As if weighty matters were pressing down upon her…you want to offer your help, but she seems too independent, so you ineffectually sit and silently stare at her. She gets upset and quickly stalks off.
You chase her out of the store, banging into customers as you do so, and catch up to her in the wind-swept parking lot. “What did I do wrong?” you beg of her…
“We’re not on the same page emotionally“, she icily snaps at you as she drives off, leaving you in a cloud of toxic exhaust.
Now, excuse me for being analytical, but HELLO - we had so much in common, didn’t we? We both enjoy terror and torture and the screaming laments of lost souls, right? We both got kicked out of the Cinema 14 when we laughed hysterically during the hacking scene of “The Yonkers Corkscrew Massacre“, right? What went wrong?
Romance - bah! A pox upon romance and love and springtime. Give me the flaming pits of Hell reeking of sulfur any day - at least THEN you know exactly who your friends are…
Ahhh…Spring. When a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of romantic love; of quiet times spent with his Lady Fair; leisurely strolls through the park while exchanging meaningful glances…
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Welcome to Hell !!!
More likely you’ll meet some psychotic chick on MySpace who begs you to add her as your friend. Then you two will start to send IM’s back and forth - all very innocent and above-board.
But not for long.
You’ll discover some common interests, like pulling wings off butterflies, or that you both collect killing jars from eBay. A shared passion for poisons, perhaps, or a mutual admiration for the grislier moments in history - for instance, you’ll both chuckle long and loud over the exploits of Jack the Ripper.
Then, it hits you - you’re only 15 miles away from this wonderful woman! You quick fire off another IM, asking her to meet for coffee Friday night.
Done!
With mounting anticipation, you drive for this fateful first meeting. Will it be Kismet or kiss-off? The sweat flows from your armpits like molten lava from the fifth ring of Hell. Finally, you arrive at the coffee shop - half an hour ahead of time. You mindlessly cruise through the book stalls (every coffee shop has books, and every bookstore has coffee - just another indication of Satan’s successful invasion of our times!) when suddenly, without warning, a vision appears in front of you…
A vision of beauty, of ultimate femininity and grace. Her eyes like hot coals burn into your soul, her ruby lips a target too inviting for words. Hoping against hope, you fumble out your replies to her questions as you try not to burn your tongue on the double-mocha latte cappuccino with non-fat sugar and hazelnut soy milk (another sign of The Dark Lord’s presence - you can’t just buy coffee anymore).
Well, things go well in spite of your awkwardness as she calls you for a second date. She seems somewhat more…reserved…this time. As if weighty matters were pressing down upon her…you want to offer your help, but she seems too independent, so you ineffectually sit and silently stare at her. She gets upset and quickly stalks off.
You chase her out of the store, banging into customers as you do so, and catch up to her in the wind-swept parking lot. “What did I do wrong?” you beg of her…
“We’re not on the same page emotionally“, she icily snaps at you as she drives off, leaving you in a cloud of toxic exhaust.
Now, excuse me for being analytical, but HELLO - we had so much in common, didn’t we? We both enjoy terror and torture and the screaming laments of lost souls, right? We both got kicked out of the Cinema 14 when we laughed hysterically during the hacking scene of “The Yonkers Corkscrew Massacre“, right? What went wrong?
Romance - bah! A pox upon romance and love and springtime. Give me the flaming pits of Hell reeking of sulfur any day - at least THEN you know exactly who your friends are…
And you have known in your short life...HOW many monks?
one... two... three... ten! OK, made it.
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