We met, the wind stopped For a moment. The birds chirped For a moment. The sun shined. It glowed for a lifetime, in a momentary shine spasm. We met, we danced. We ate Italian. You, a gelfling-like Navy brat from Conroe, Texas. Me, a self-conscious scene kid from Lincoln, Nebraska. Your hand in marriage I was about to ask ya. But then Big Steve came over with that sherm stick. You know, that dip. He got it from his boy in H-town. You know, the dude with that green iPod shuffle. We dipped them thangs in sherm and chiefed. My mind went bozo. You know, that 'balming fluid. My nightmares went lucid. You stopped by to drop off Wedding Crashers on blu-ray. That's when I developed extreme dissociative symptoms. I saw demons on your face and tried to ward them off with your curling iron. My cat turned into a police siren. Big Steve cranked that chopped TI and I was all wet. You left. Our love drowned at or around that moment.