My faith in romance has once again been restored. Not as a result of the weekend break with The Man though. I mean, I love him but his approach to romance is very much like his view on piercings. Sure there are people out there doing it, but it's unnecessary pain and should be avoided.
Check this man out. In order to commemorate the death of his wife, this devoted farmer planted a forest with a heart-shaped field in the middle. Try reading that story without a tear in your eye. I'm sure he too had his darker moments (like wearing his wife's lingerie and parading in them in front of the cows) but for something like that one is willing to look the other way.
Tears were not far as I came back home yesterday either. A man has plastered every door in the neighbourhood with posters in which he is looking for a girl he met at a foam party and spent a night with (and clearly can't forget). And before you let out a collective "owwwww", no, it's not me. Based on evidence (photos on my favourite gay bar's website) I've not been to one since early noughties. And even then I wouldn't have gone home with someone who is trying to refresh the poor girls' memory by telling he "drove a white kids' bicycle". At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Until new evidence surfaces.
Even Kim Jong Dung - or what ever the latest installment of the North Korean dynasty is called- has a girlfriend! Yep, the Pyongyang boy wonder is getting it on with a local pop star, famous for her hit song "Excellent Horse-Like Lady". What more could a man ask for...!
Love truly is all around.
And as I float around in love-induced pink bubblegum haze I can't help but wonder. Am I ... wait for it... mellowing? Have I exhausted my sarcasm reserves and become... happy? Well, happy might be overdoing it but "content" sounds equally brutal. What will become of me? And the blog? Am I going to have to start a new one, titled contentgirlfriendhappyhousewife.blogspot.com and start sharing cupcake recipes and posting smug photos and me and the puppies that people like that inevitably have?
And as I float around in love-induced pink bubblegum haze I can't help but wonder. Am I ... wait for it... mellowing? Have I exhausted my sarcasm reserves and become... happy? Well, happy might be overdoing it but "content" sounds equally brutal. What will become of me? And the blog? Am I going to have to start a new one, titled contentgirlfriendhappyhousewife.blogspot.com and start sharing cupcake recipes and posting smug photos and me and the puppies that people like that inevitably have?
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