How's your week been? Mine's been rather swell - it's been less hectic than last week, but I've enjoyed it nonetheless!
So today I left my room and went to the Dome on campus, where a health and well-being event was taking place; therefore I got loads of free stuff, including a Frisbee. There was also Swedish food for some reason - very nice!
Anyway, who would have thought February would be coming to an end so quickly? It felt pretty quick. So congratulations for making it through another month! I have my Improv workshop tomorrow and I miss Sheldon deeply - oh yeah, I walked all the way from Blackheath to Eltham yesterday - take that, everybody!
My blog post title sounds weird, right? Screw sex, drugs and rock n roll and embrace love, sex and sandwiches. Mainly sandwiches. The food kind. Not the threesome kind. My dream threesome, in case you are wondering. is George Watsky and Funny Man from Hollywood Undead. George has a magical tongue and Funny Man has a voice that makes women's panties drop to the floor. It seems like a good combination. Ahh, we live in a fantasy world sometimes. I have no idea where this post is going, but I don't think it can go any weirder than my discussion of a threesome. Yes, I'm weird.
So love? What is love? How do you know when you're in love? Is it when you get those batshit crazy butterflies that feel like they're trying to break out of your stomach or is it when you're with someone for so long that you ache when they're not with you? That sounds like a sexual suggestion. But is that also a sign of love? When you emotionally connect through sex that it transform into love making? Whoa. But does love have to be with a romantic partner? No, no it does not. I love my family and friends and would do anything to make sure they are happy. So why do we forget that? Why is it that the moment our sexy parts awaken we seemingly forget the world around us and focus on that tiny percentage of our love when in reality there is a huge chunk we're blindly ignoring. You know what, I love you, but I'll be damned if I can't eat that pizza or call my best friend to discuss how Madonna's job is to perform, therefore shouldn't be sainted for carrying on after the fall. Hey, I got spat on once and carried on!
Sex, huh? Who likes sex, both the idea of it and physical act of it - raise your hand? Okay, now keep your hand up if you get it on tap as if it was water and you can't imagine your life without it. Who still has their hand up? Listen, or don't, I'm not fussed, sex is great, but you know what else is great? Pizza. But also intimacy without the D or the V. I like the idea of watching a shit film, with a slice of pizza, wearing my leggings and untidy hair, than wearing all that lacy lingerie that can easily be ripped. People, not having sex is just as powerful as having sex - just don't abuse it. You should be happy in your skin and if you don't want to touch that skin on an intimate basis, then eat potato skins because they are awesome!
Now sandwiches. The food kind. Light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Foodgasms are real and can rock your body in all kinds. I recommend Chicken and Stuffing because that will take you all around the world and back again and still have room for seconds. Life.
Well that was weird.