hello

in lieu of a regular dave update

which i really don't have the time for

i've copy/pasted a story from brucio.com

enjoy

If I smoked, I bet that I'd be up to three packs a day by now. Don't let that alarm you 'cause if I smoked, I'm sure I'd be trying to quit. Maybe I'd be having a hard time of it, but I'm sure I could lean on the love and support of my friends. 'Cause knowing those CRAZY GUYS they would have quit long before me...and they'd delight me with their insightful stories about how hard it was to stop "cold turkey." If I smoked, and if my friends smoked, and if I had friends.

If I had a girlfriend, I know that we would be happy. But not as happy as we once were. Because I'm sure that if I had a girlfriend, that one of those things about her, which at first I found downright enticing, would have begun to bug me.

Like the way she ate breakfast, at first very sexy, now it would drive me fucking nuts. Every third meal would be a nightmare. To stop the fighting, we'd try eating breakfast at midnight and having gimlets, her favorite cocktails, as soon as we woke up. It would be mayhem. But we would tough it out because despite the tear in the eggs, we knew that we were meant for each other, no matter what.

Because, if I had a girlfriend she would possess a secret beauty. You know the kind of unique beauty that stupid guys can't see: f.m. beauty.

But what if her underground beauty had blossomed, crossed over, into full blown beauty that any fool could see?

And those guys, you know, the guys who, if they could play instruments, would be plugging away in real rotten bands, as if the world needed more bands that sounded like R.E.M. Those guys would call my girlfriend up, if they knew her number, if she had a phone, if I had a girlfriend...and they would HIT ON HER. I would 'call them out'...having confused my life with the movie, "Walking Tall."

They would come over, in cabs - if they had any money - and we would get in a street fight, just me and them...if I had guts...But I don't have guts so they would pummel me. And knowing my girlfriend which I don't, she would go with them, leaving me alone with a dog.

A dog that she and I had picked out, that she had named, whose name I could never remember. So I would be left alone with a dog I hated, whose name I didn't know, so I couldn't even call him and tell him I hated him. We'd be left looking up at the breakfast food stains on the curtains, remembering, saying, "What if?"

this has been a plagarized dave update