Nothing Better...

"Tell me am i right to think that there could be nothing better than making you my bride and slowly growing old together."

As the thick velvet curtain closed on the stage production, the only synapses firing through my brain carried information about the weight of said velvet curtain. What if the handicapped protagonist's wheelchair battery died and found himself helplessly in the mass of fibers' path of destruction (you ask why he doesnt just move the wheelchair with his arms. He doesn't have arms. i said he was handicapped...he operates the joystick with his mouth.) ? Not to worry, Lenny Kravitz got up on stage to bid Nicole Kidman goodnight while some male model stood next to him, looking like a deer in headlights, and not those cliche headlights. We are talking xenon halogen pure white high intensity heliopowered monsters. Wait til Lexus gets ahold of them and they start turning corners!

IS there anything better than smashing your archrival on their home court?

Is there anything more annoying than teenage girls? Not so much the way they babble and gush forth streams of information at Spanish speeds, rather their disregard for the common sense you try so hard to etch onto their hearts. Alas, in the end, they stray onto the road of attention and instant gratification only to find it ripping the sutres out of almost healed wounds. I never was much of a doctor, but i was better than they ever gave me credit for. I mean these girls can't see a bad situation if it knocks on their door with death's scythe, prods them with Satan's pitchfork and stomps on their beliefs. All i ask is that you remember me. Remember that i was right. I'll be waiting outside with brawny paper towels, hoping to soak up what's left of you.