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I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "I see why you don't get laid." Let me tell you something. You're right. All the same, I'm not sure if I'd want to have sex with a woman who, afterwards, wouldn't be willing to say "Supple Frazier put on quite a show." Odd criteria for a relationship, yes, but it's got to be that way. It's not that I refuse to date any woman who plays into all of my really fucked up ideas, it's that i CAN'T date any woman who doesn't do that. I currently drive a 2003 Buick Regal LS. It's beige, it's cushy, it works fine, it has 20,000 miles on it. It's safe, it's reliable and it is boring. I hate it. My first car was a 1992 Mazda 929 with a shot suspension, cracked radiator, useless CD changer, useless(and gigantic) car phone and a sun roof that sometimes worked, other times jumped off the track and let rain in. It rattled when it got to 60, which took awhile, and it handled as though it was panicking all the time because lord knows I was. I wish I had that car. I loved that car more than I love videogames. My parents didn't let me keep it because I have to take a 600 mile trip back and forth to school and they didn't want me to die in the desert. Pussies. That car had character, it had a personality, it was something to behold and to respect and not necessarily to care for, but to pray for. Please dont overheat, please make this turn, please don't burst into flames on the freeway I'm in the middle lane, I can't easily bail out, I don't want to die in a fireball. "Jimmy, check this out - oop, hold on - ok, check this out" It would break, of course, contraptions never work, but the effort, the originality and the sheer lack of worry over life and limb - contraptions are notoriously dangerous, we all know this - would be something that would remind me exactly why I asked her to move in with me and why I could imagine having kids with her. Kids that would, eventually, put themselves in harms way much in the same way we do. I want to wake up to...

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