Ok, first off:
Oh, little Nephew... Is there anything less more gangsta than being shot, point blank, with a blunderbuss by an ancient Welshman? No. No, there is not.
Yeah, I fixed that for you. Free of charge. Seriously, "blunderbuss" is now what I would like on my death certificate under "cause of death". I will be disappointed by anything less, except possibly "Utahraptor".
And secondly, it's official: my girlfriend and I are in fact Molly and Roast Beef. I mean, I had seen the parallels before, i.e. I am an intelligent, morbid, obsessive-compulsive-depressive, she is from the United Kingdom, I have anxiety attacks, and she calms me down better than
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lorazepam ever could. But
All the magazines are saying that terrible is the new horrible and that must be why I love you...
simply
clinched it. I have had this exact sentiment expressed to me, just not in the same words. What I'm saying is, it mystifies me not only why my girlfriend would actually put up with me, but why she actually prefers me to other people. I mean, she has no glaring personality disorder that I can see, and that's the first thing I checked. Maybe some of you people who are
older more experienced can shed some light for me on why it is that Molly, and by extension, my girlfriend, and by further extension, a certain category of female, would willingly pick a guy who's quite clearly
completely fuck*ng nuts. I would like to open this discussion.