It was a damp rainy day.� Everything was raining, even my cat.� Something smells of urine��.� You walked into the door, and into my life.� Pretty sure urine smell followed�.�� These pants weren�t always soiled.� i reminisce of a calm, cathartic life where men did not live in fear for their lives.� Yes, once upon a time, there was a timely time where men and women lived peacefully together, a time where birds chirped, and a time where urine went in the toilette, not in my pants.� Until you�. and your gun.

����������� Thirteen months ago, the heroin of this story, Woman Luvalot enters the scene.� One smile and the chicken I was eating decided now would be the perfect time to choke the living crap out of me.� Should have been a sign, foreshadowing what is meant to be.� She walked up to me, making the assumption that I know where her textbooks are.� Meanwhile brain fights with heart over what comes first, reason or romance.

����������� �Twas a gruesome battle.� Brain comprehends certain absolute truths, while heart understands only nothing at all.� So they both have their ups and downs, you know because getting flattened like a pug�s face is understandably the greatest experience in one�s adolescent life.� Then again there�s the brain with its knowledge� but I say screw the brain (eat Oreos).� On this particular battlefield earth (great movie and lifelong companion) heart took out mp5 navy and shot three rounds, that�s 90 bullets into Mr. Teammate, the brain.� While Krang babbled about how he didn�t want to die, Shredder just said �Fire in the hole!!!� and proceeded to stuff a flashbang up his frontal lobe.

����������� Now that that has been made entirely clear, I can get back to the point of this story.������ Woman was filled with gratitude when some inhumane punishment from Hell actually led me to the correct book case.� So, I felt now was a good time to make my move, before brain awoke from his beating.� If only God had been awake during this part of my life, His mercy would not have allowed me to buy her books and invite her to �go over to my place and play some video games.�

����������� We arrive at my house after a short walk, and as she sits on the sofa, I death-march over to my Playstation 2 console.� Dead or Alive 2 was the name of the game, and I have always perceived myself as a big fat thorny land gnome. �Apparently she did too, but brain was still unconscious and had not yet noted under �Things to remember!!!!!!!!!! If you don�t you will die!!!� section.� Wishing certain information had been bestowed upon me prior to previous invitation, Ms. Luvnothing decides that she has known all along that she knows video games are for know-nothing nerds.� So instead i remove her sandals and wash her feet with scented oils.� i thoroughly enjoyed performing this task, but the scent of those oils will never depart from these hands i fear.� She left that night after a cup of freshly brewed my-blood, and i would not see her again for two days.

����������� After i awaken, two days later, i call the number she so graciously tattooed to my arm with the end of her branding iron.� �Woman� i said, and then proceeded to invite her, with an insane amount of thought and brilliance, to movie and a dinner.� We came to movie consensus after she claimed she would only accompany me on this venture were we to see �I Hate You a Lot Die Die Die Like a Monkey in a Testing Facility.�� After an odd movie with no point as far as my comprehension, we went back to her house for a barbecue she insisted i would enjoy.� We sat down at the candelit table, she took off the blindfold, and served what she informed me to be her favorite delicacy: pig�s head on a stick.

����������� I prepare to head back to the outer-city, wherein lies my house, when Woman informs me that the wood needed to repair my boat will not arrive for a minimum of two weeks.� This results in my stumbling back into her lair, wading through piles of golden treasures calling out �Woman!!?!?! Where did you put my silver slippers?!?!�� She calls out to me, allowing the knowledge of her whereabouts; the living room.� As i gently navigate myself into that good night that is the presence of Woman, Brain�s consciousness waxes.� I start to THINK that perhaps this relationship is entirely one-sided, then the waning.

����������� My presence becomes found by the living room, and i ignorantly misconceive the reasons my heart could possibly pulsate so quickly.� This is love, i feel.� Woman is sitting in an ominous chair.� On the wall, at her right hand lies an authentic �Luvalot� painting entitled, �The Nazarene�.� Without a word she delivers to my person the materials necessary to vacate her premises.� From that point on, getting out of bed to use the restroom just doesn�t seem worth it anymore.