TODAY’S THE DAY. THIS RIGHT HERE IS THE TIME. CARPE-ING THAT DIEM. YES INDEED. NO LONGER WILL I LANGUISH IN THE ICY SHADOWS OF A LOVE UNSPOKEN, PINING FOR THE GENTLE TOUCH OF MY OBJET D’AMOUR. NO, THIS IS MY MOMENT. I AM GOING TO MARCH RIGHT UP TO MISS PATRICA WHISKERFRITZ, THE GIRL OF MY DREAMS AND ANNOUNCE IN A BOLD, FIRM VOICE, “PATRICIA! I HAVE LOVED YOU SINCE WE WERE CUBS! YOU ARE-“
… OH.
OH, OKAY.
THAT’S … UNFORTUNATE.
MIGHT HAVE TO UPDATE MY SPEECH.
“PATRICIA, I SEE YOU ARE ENGAGED IN SOME RATHER SERIOUS HEAVY PETTING WITH CHAD FURBISH, JOCK EXTRAORDINAIRE, UP AGAINST THE VERY SAME TREE I GNAWED OUR INITIALS INTO JUST LAST WEEK. AND DON’T YOU TWO LOOK TO BE HAVING A LOVELY TIME. SO SORRY TO BOTHER YOU. CARRY ON.”
MAYBE I CAN THROW IN A “HEY, CHAD. HOW’S IT HANGING? YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY MUCH BETTER AT DIEM CARPE-ING THAN ME. TRY NOT TO GET LITTLE BITS OF MUD AND BARK ALL OVER MY SHATTERED DREAMS.”
…
… PLEASE LET ME GO BLIND RIGHT NOW.
