T minus 6 days until our Captain Planet rings (and maybe, genitals (hopefully)) will collide in a gigantic, sparkly halo of love-dust. Perhaps, like the universe's creation, it will begin with an implosion, I don't know. Tourists and welcome parties alike being sucked into our vacuum of love like a rubber ducky circling the bath drain when the plug is pulled. Shoes and passports will circle towards us orbitng our embrace in incrementally smaller orbits as we Eskimo kiss in a totally ethnically correct way. It will be intense, and I embrace that intensity in my heart of hearts (I was born with more than one?).
Don't be jealous reader(s). You may one day find your Lois Lane. Just know that at 7:20pm on Sunday the 18th of December it is my turn.
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