THE PERFECT STORM

You spend half your life looking for the right person. You want someone who's not simpleminded and reductionist and mindlessly cheery and dull like most Americans. You want someone like you - someone who's complicated, intelligent, cynical, analytical, funny, and intense; someone who'll see the world the way you see it.

But isn't it annoying how, once you find that person, you spend most of your time listening to them go on and on about their ideas, making mountains out of molehills, and analyzing everything and making it much more complicated than it has to be, just like you do? Fucking bastards. You can't win, Rock.








 
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