Hey

Hey Staci! Did you know that Christmas is just around the corner? I'm sure you are well aware of the concept, but then again, I have little idea of just what goes through your mind. To be honest, I'm comfortable with that actuality; you are you, after all, and I am me, and I'm often uncertain what goes on inside my own head, let alone yours.

Hey Staci! Did you know that when I think about you, rarely though it may be, the Battle of Hoth springs to life. That may sound weird (creepy, even) but it's not so bad, as a film from 1980 is about as distant as I am from you, except to say that an AT-AT does more for me than you do.

Hey Staci! Did you know that I once had a crush on you? You knew that, most certainly, just as I was vaguely aware that you fancied me, albeit rather minutely (c'mon, admit it). I was a tad shy regarding the issue, but there's more to it, insomuch that, truthfully, what could there possibly have been between the two of us? You thought I was intriguing because you hadn't really known me, and I thought you were fascinating because of the raging, reverberating dissonance that barricades me from the female gender in its entirety. It's a congenital thing, so we shouldn't feel guilty about it.

Hey Staci! Did you figure out that the above admission doesn't particularly trouble me? To rephrase, just for you: that it took a while for you to ascertain that I'm usually full of shit isn't your fault, nor is it mine. No one is to blame, although we may decry our inability to grasp the obvious at leisure. We're stupid like that.

Hey Staci! When reality finally stepped in to sweep the cobwebs away from your consciousness, did you begin to loathe me? For the record, I've never quite understood my apathy toward you, but I can appreciate the fact that you superficially despise me. Sometimes, I envision the kennel scene from John Carpenter's rendition of the Thing when I try to understand such antipathy, and I still don't hate you.

Hey Staci! Would you care if I mentioned that I have finished Dragon Quest VIII? Probably not, but I'll mention it anyway, and furthermore (to continue with game references), I was tempted to entitle this post Stardust Speedway. Not that it aptly describes the mood; I just like the fucking name.

Hey Staci! Just for kicks, I'd like to proclaim that I'm not the same man I used to be, but that's a lie on so many levels, so I won't. I'm the same old same, and I don't think that we could have a productive conversation for greater than, say, five minutes, without a massive headache setting in.

Hey Staci! Take a look at the picture shown above, will you? I can't, for the life of me, decide which individual I most identify with, so would you be so kind as to inform me?

Hey Staci! Fuck that, your answer is incorrect. Get used to it.

________________________________________

Rudolph the Red Nosed Woman that Shields Her Face