A Pleasant Kind of Torture

I know, i know. Cliche titles are starting to get to me, too. I can't help it. I'm a cornball. It's hereditary, believe me. My father takes the term corny to an entirely new level never before experienced by mankind.

Alright, now to the pleasant torture. Well, my sister is going to the dance, courtesy of a rather zealous Mr. Hafenrichter, whom i did not expect to do that, but was pleasantly surprised. She'll have a good time. That much is assured. So, i went in to talk to my sister right before we were hittin' the hay and she says, "Wanna see my dress?" 'Course i do! So she turns on her light, which was off for some reason and opens up her closet. I almost died laughing at the irony. It is the same exact color and style as hers was. I just about died. It was hysterical. It is hysterical.

I love it how the Big Man Upstairs has a funny way of letting you know he's screwin' with you. What a punk.

:)

Well, let's see how gutsy we're feelin' today, eh Hil? This may get interesting. Yup. I do believe it will.

Plain and simply,

Nick

...My arms won't free you,
and my heart won't try...