Oogey Woogey Lovey Dovey Num Nums

Today marks the day of that holiday that I’ve always fuckin’ hated, a holiday that many of us have always fuckin’ hated, a holiday that absolutely deserves to be FUCKIN’ HATED.

It does, and we ALL have our reasons.

However, it technically IS a holiday for lovers and… I am in love.

So, I’m going to tell you a bit about that.


Everybody walks around with their own preferences, needs, and wants concerning just about anything. Depending on what you’re looking for, be it a new car, pair of shoes, or Love, you have certain things that you are looking for that you are unwilling to compromise on.

This unconscious “list” is of course, joined by another list of stuff that you will grudgingly compromise but can live without, and yet another list of stuff that you would compromise on and aren’t “deal-breakers” but would certainly love to have.

For almost all of this stuff, we may spend our entire lives compiling and refining these lists, depending on our “life” priorities.

For me, the shoes were first, for they were a more practical choice.

Okay, they were a fuck of a lot easier than women, who’s gonna argue that one.

I tried all manner of shoes, even dropping $50 for the expensive ones, before I found the $14.99 CheapShit brand boots that went with everything (Carhartt’s and um… Carhartt’s) and were comfortable (don’t yelp in pain/relief at the end of the day).

Naturally, the day those boots wore out, roughly 5 months after purchasing them, I went back to CheapoShitMart to get another pair.

Gone. CheapAssWhiteTrashMart is as fickle as a pubescent teen, and the boots they now had were the same, but much more ghetto.

I’d figured out what I wanted though, I just couldn’t find it there anymore.

As for a vehicle, I owned a complete rolling-piece-of-shit for so long that it wasn’t hard to upgrade there, but I still knew exactly what I wanted. Again, much easier than even thinking about chicks, and based on my internal list that I’d spent my whole driving life putting together. I swapped out GimongousPartsFallingOffShitMobile for StripedRedNeckFootballHelmet, and have never had a complaint.

Love…

Love was naturally trickier because it wasn’t something I could save up my money for (except for that ONE weekend with that cow, a cinder block, and that full-body rubber suit… I call that one: Lesson Learned).

I still had my lists, but a lot of that stuff wasn’t something that you could know without taking the time to really get to know someone and, unfortunately, rolling around naked with them, for as fun as it was, wasn’t covering it.

List Number One got covered though, with The Girl, and List Number Two did pretty good too. But neither of us was making it to the end of our lists, and the day we figured that out was pretty much it.

MarriedGirl did pretty good on both lists, but there was still a glaring issue on List Number One that neither of us could get over.

She wanted to stay married, and I couldn’t blame her. Again, a mutual decision was made, and that was it.

FarAwayGirl, who needs a more suitable moniker (thanks again, Syn_ack, for pointing shit out to me, and for the nickname, though WCG may have won a foot-painting with: AussieBabe), has been around for awhile, months and months even. Though we’d always been friends, somewhere hidden in the depths of my brain, I was checking stuff off my lists. She was too, though we’d never admitted it to each other until fairly recently.

Before I knew it, I was pretty much done with all the lists, she’d covered all of ’em, and Brain finally told Heart what was up. They got together with Gut, painstakingly went through all of it over a couple of weeks, and before you could say HolyImpulsivePlaneTicketPurchaseBatman, I was planning a trip to pretty much the furthest distance from where I’m at.

It started with the idea that, Life is too short not to say “Fuck it,” once in a while, and do something based completely on your Heart.

It’s since evolved into the idea that, I’ve met the most amazing person of my life, and InsanelyLuckyMe, she doesn’t find me completely retarded. Not even when I do an atrocious Aussie accent, write interminably depressing ambiguous emails, or tell her all the stupid shit that goes on in my head/pants.

I even opened up the trenchcoat of my mind, and flashed her obscenely, in an effort to “scare her off with a wiggle,” as I’ve done so many times before.

She took a good, long, look and when I ChesterTheMolesterly cackled and tried run away, she tackled me to the ground. That shit wasn’t going to work this time. SHE wouldn’t let ME run away from something that we both knew was right.

So, I’m going to Australia in April.

Impulsive? Maybe, but what would you do if you found the boots you’ve wanted your whole life?

Nothing could keep me from her.

Hell, we even speak the same language, even if I do so very poorly.

Didn’t know I was so multilingual did you?

Hell, I speak Canadian and British too.


Awright, I’m done with the schmoopieness… for now.

Thanks for all the ego-stroking too, you guys are the fuckin’ best.

And by “guys,” I mean, “chicks,” because the “guys” that comment are seriously a bunch of freaks.

Cole, you play it cool, but I’m pretty sure you’d GrecoRoman me, Greek-style, faster than you can say “FuckinCanucksSuck,” three times. Surly Feyg.

Pimp wants me too, but he’s got the wife and kids ‘n shit, so I think I’m safe. Married Feyg.

Bingo bitches, but he secretly loves me. 405-entry writin’ Feyg.

Andy, Wombat, and The Kud never really express any overt sexual feelings… but I’m pretty sure that’s only because I’ve never bought ’em a beer.

I’m watchin’ out for that.

The “chicks,” are a vast bunch, so go read some of these pure balls of sweetitude, and give them all sorts of Love, sans fluids.

I know, I know I left a bunch off. Sorry.

You know Judd loves you though, right?

C’mon baby, don’ be that way…

I’ll getcha next time I’m all schmoopie. Which may be often, we’ll see.