Jesse told me I couldn't leave her house until I posted on my blog. So here I am posting. This is probably one of the more scary moments of my life. Being held hostage is nothing like what I thought it would be. There's less yelling, and no gun waving. Also, there are no maniacal, prmature plan-revealing pychos running around talking on untraceable cell phones. And THAT, it what makes it so scary. This is a new brand of hostage situation. One Kevin Spacey can only dream about. Nightmare about, that is.... But mostly, it's the kind of tense situation that most couples deal with on a daily basis.
You see, I'm starting to realize that having a meaningful relationship is a perilous risk, but one that is always worth it. Oh, forget it. I was just making that up so that Jesse wouldn't get mad about the whole "I'm being held hostage" thing. So, instead of trying to draw some sappy meaningful point of my rambling above, I'm just going to let it stew for awhile.
At this point, you may find youself asking what this has to do with you. I'll tell you. Absolutely nothing. Actually, I'm not even sure what it has to do with me. BUT, just for kicks, let's do this. Everyone post a comment and vote, on a scale of 1 to 10, how mad Jesse will be that this post is nothing like what she probably had in mind. 1 is Jesse doesn't care at this point because it's late, 10 is Jesse just chopped my head off and is now using my vertebrae for tinsel. Then, vote again (same scale) and guess how mad Jesse is about the scale about how mad she is. Wish me luck, I'm publishing this post!
1 comment:
hmm lets see, on the first scale of one to ten I say.... Kitten
and on the second scale of 1 to 10 I would say... um.... 6
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