Ludicrous me, ludicrous you.

I was thinking, this morning, about getting a custom shirt made for me. Nothing too elaborate, only the words: "I'm ludicrous." Written in a nice font, accross my back and on the left side of my chest, like a trademark.

Yes, simply accepting how ridiculous I am is no longer enough. I have to expose this to everyone else. Knowing how weird I am made myself a very nice person to be around, and that's the effect I expect with you too. Would you mind living alongside me in a tremendously improved version?

Well, I enjoy this and I'm not going back. But some people simply don't want to see this, to see me. And then I have to pretend for them. How could this get any more familiar? Oh, man... I don't wanna keep hiding something from everyone, even when they've made it clear they don't want to see it.

Did you ever have a girlfriend who was so shy she'd always keep dressed up around you? In the moments after sex, what would you be doing? Catching a breath, laying down and enjoying the workout, cuddling her. Imagine if she was to jump up, grab her underwear and run for the bathroom right after the orgasm.

Ludicrous, huh?