I find it completely and utterly necessary to title this blog as it is titled. Hello. Hello Hello Hello. This is my way of saying this blog will be entirely completely most definitly personal with some one. I probably told them it was about them prior to writing it. In fact I did tell them. This does not mean, however, that you can't see something from it from me to you. So right now don't click back or spam the backspace key in the address bar to clear it for some more interesting content like redtube, just listen. Listen. No not like that, you're not listening right. Listen. Really.
To fully understand all these things all those things and many of that thing you'll have to understand the prerequisits you so amazingly and fullfill-edly met upon meeting me. Oh wait we're moving too fast already in this frenzied gait of explanation-atude. This prerequisits aren't just for me my dear my love my little shnookum-zi-poopsie-pants, they're for almost all of my friends if they'll allow me to so willing speak for them. I would have fallen deeply and utterly mostly infatuated with you even had you not met my friends prerequisits but you did so I give you no worry as to what they think of you given some small public gathering for I can assure you. They love you too.
Not much time to be completely honest. I have to restrict myself withhold myself some how keep myself in a space of time. For if I could expel all the reasons I have found myself completely and entirely taken with you, the internet would become over loaded and much too hefty to stream pornography at the quick and perverted rate most people desire of it. Let's go back, back to the beginning to the place where we met.
Matt Porters. Matt Porter reminds me of music reminds me of singing reminds me of your head on my chest. It reminds me of the soft ''mmhmm'' you so cutely and innocently utter in the space following something a tad more guilty. Careful careful careful, remind me to not let too many people know what we do in our spare time. Still Listening? good.
My voice carries over a nice little friendly little jovial little thermal in the bustling air. So rushed, why not wait and hear my love story. Oh well at least some one's still listening to me. Or are there. No less, I'll keep on like a rambler ramb-ibler. Beyond Matt's house everything reminds me of the pre-pre-pre dating. We were friends and you were a doesn't do the boyfriend girlfriend thing. But you were so much cooler than me that I needed it so bad to your friend. I'm glad you were a doesn't do the boyfriend thing now, it made everything work out like it was supposed to.
The best way to get on my parents friends siblings cousins good sides is to talk. And you do it! So stop worrying silly it only makes you seem quieter. The reason they like you to talk is because the last one didn't talk. She didn't do much of anything to completely and entirely honest but I digress as this is degrading the chapter at hand.
Your house your house your house your dog. It all reminds me of you reminds me of love reminds me of the nice smelling candles that mommy used to use to cover up the pinesol. No no no not because I think you smell like pinesol but because it reminds me of that crazy carefree and innocent times when I was younger. You instill such abandon in me thank you thank you so so so so so so so so so so much. Are those enough SOs? Are you still listening?
You can stop listening now to be completely honest because I have to go eat supper and teach little kids the proper way to do doop do doop do doop through a nirvana song for the eighth week in a row. Eighth. Funny word. Meanwhile. You can read this over again. I love you :)