 |
||||
 |
May 30,
2002
The Romancing of Inbal - Part The Fourth The Romancing of Inbal - Part The First
So, this much has been settled thus far: I’m not a perfect guy, but I am a guy. I’m uncertain if that works in my favor or not. Hobbies: Being evil. No. Hobbies: Blasphemy. No. I can cook sandwiches. That is, I can follow a recipe for cooking any given sandwich that doesn’t demonstrate itself to be overly complicated (i.e. a sandwich that doesn’t require more than two possible combinations of spreadeable matter). My hobbies are swearing and cussing. No. Sewing? As a kid, I actually used to sew. I remember sewing green string onto paper and enjoying the endeavor very much. When you’re young you can spend hours doing that kind of thing. I write stuff and most of my stories indeed involve sewing. It’s a genre I’m carving out. A niche. There’s action, romance, mystery, and now sewing stories. Sewing stories are so versatile that they may even be cross-incorporated with other genres to afford me such expansion into the realms of action-sewing, sewing-romance, and horror-sewing. Not to mention erotic sewing stories. Hobbies: Sewing. But I do thoroughly enjoy washing the dishes. It’s a kind of Zen thing for me. I suppose I can just tell Inbal that I’ve suddenly gotten handsomer and changed my likes and dislikes to necessitate the revision of my dating profile. Where was I born? According to state records, I was born in a hospital. Nevertheless, there is much evidence to support the possibility that I was indeed born before a live studio audience. Dear Inbal, I might be a moron, but I’m not a jerk. No, that doesn’t sound right. What I must avoid at all costs is actually meeting with her in any way. I could never impress her on an actual date. I’m almost certain that she has an accent, and I could never be around her because I’d immediately and unconsciously pick up the accent, start speaking with it, and piss her off. What are my likes? Likes: Puppies, cookies, and people who are Inbal. Dislikes: Evil, vampires, vampires in flamboyant Musketeer outfits, and people who are not Inbal. All this is slightly misleading. But I don’t suppose I could answer these questions in any other fashion, no matter how hard I tried. So, in that way, I suppose they’re quite honest. I’m convinced that I should start a petition requiring Inbal to either: 1) Become my girlfriend. 2) Snuggle with me. 3) Become my sidekick. 4) Become a cartoon explorer. 5) Become an archeologist. 6) Be placed in a museum. 7) Become a Russian cosmonaut named Uri Zblatsnika with a charming little bubble helmet to be worn on astro-adventures. Though I’m uncertain whether or not she’d be legally held to any of these. But if enough people actually wanted Inbal to become an archeologist, or my girlfriend, then perhaps she’d take that into consideration; especially if she ever hopes to run for political office. I wonder if I can legally design a theme park around Inbal. It would be a very romantic theme park. Knowing women, it would be a veritable roller coaster ride of emotions. So many possibilities! Dear Inbal, let’s go on many wonderful, wondrous, magical adventures together...
|
|||
|
Copyright © 2000-2002 Jacques. All rights reserved. |
