Sunday, November 7, 2010

Strange Times Falls in Love

Here at Strange Times, love is important.  Sure, we talk a lot about the futility of mankind and the hopeless plight of humanity, but we're actually suckers for all that mushy-gushy stuff. Whether you're discovering your soulmate in the sea of loneliness known as life or if you're just rubbing one out into the toilet during your lunch break, you've just gotta have a special someone that you can hold near and dear.

Not asking her name is our biggest regret...we just hope she's happy.

It may come as a surprise to you all, but we know what it is to fall in love.  We know, we know,  you're asking yourself, "But Strange Times, aren't you too macho to fall in love?" and our answer is, "Yes, yes we are,  but we did it just to prove we could."  We've been cursed since birth by being "more human than human".  We were kicked out of school for blowing teachers minds figuratively and literally with our superior knowledge of french fry mathematics, worm anatomy, and other worldly subjects.  We were unable to ever hold regular 9-5 jobs due to our inability to not "rock out loud".  We wish we didn't have to be so epicly kickass, but it's in our blood.  Love was just another challenge for us to crush.

Strange Times Vs. Love...let the crushing begin.

So we set off on a mission to learn what it means to be in love.  Not just in like.  Not even in like-like.  But in love, dammit.  You may find this a tad queer (in more ways than one) due to Strange Times being composed of several dozens, hundreds, possibly thousands of employees (we lost track after the Great Mailroom Fire/Orgy of '04), but when you're in a close-knit organization like do everything together.

And we mean e'rything.

It all began in the park one crisp November day in 1997.  Galaxies of amber and scarlet leaves fluttered whimsically at the morning breeze's tender touch.  The morning dew's twinkle seemed to stretch on endlessly towards the horizon and we felt as though we were stargazing into the backdrop of the universe.  Our nostrils were filled with the scent of chrysanthemums and we wafted in the perfumed fragrance of a nearby discarded banana peel.  Romance was truly in the air.  No amount of poetry could possibly capture the perfection of the setting.

Thanks for nothing, you wispy-haired fuck.

Then...we saw her.  Standing at approximately, roughly, exactly 5' 8", our sights fell upon a golden addoness.  Her hair seemed to flow through the air as if it were suspended in maple syrup. Her figure was blurry, as if her beauty was too much for our eyes to perceive.  She showered the area in a glow that were unable to behold because of its sheer luminosity.  We took a step in her direction.  We could feel warmth radiating off of her like an aura of acceptance and...dare we say, love?  We took another step.  And another.  With every inch, the warmth became more encompassing, like a safe haven in the rough waters of solitude.  We longed to caress her alabaster skin and make her believe we could do anything.  As we came within a midget's arm's length away from her, the warmth we once found so enticing soon grew to a sweltering, blistering heat that seemed, it actually did begin to singe our flesh.  The smell of burning hair overwhelmed us and we began to wretch uncontrollably.  It was at this time we realized she was completely engulfed in flames.

We promptly fled the scene, but we do wonder what happened to her from time to time.

So we marched on into the haze of uncertainty, which was likely caused by the smoke from our first failed attempt at love, but it wasn't about to get us down.  We started thinking about all the women we have encountered in our past.  All the first dates.  First kisses.  Why, we remember our first Bursting Calahmer and Reversed Tightrope Jacobson like it was yesterday...because it was yesterday.  And we're still mopping up the slime.  Everything just seemed simpler back then.  It was about this time that we found ourselves in the hustle and bustle of downtown Anycity, USA.  Men swaddled their briefcases like freshly stolen babies and women worked the streets like jackhammers (that fuck you for money).   

Now that's a milkshake we can get onboard with.

And that's when...we saw her.  A different her.  This her was even more stunning than the last her.  Her attire was that of royalty.  A radiant queen, indeed.  The lengths of fabric extending from her frame depicted scenes of intensity, complexity, and at the same time...accessibility.  The tapestries draped across her shoulders made us feel as if anything was possible and we would do anything to get beneath them. 

Middle Ages' Porn=Hawwwt

Her beautiful tapestries fell gracefully unto the sidewalk, but did not tarnish.  She was resistant to any sort of damage that this troubled Earth could try and inflict.  We placed our hand on the small of her back, as she was kneeling on the ground.  We jostled her slightly, but she did not reveal her face.  Oh how she taunted us so!  We whirled her around and what we beheld was not beauty, but horror!  Terror in the form of a homeless, bag-wielding vagrant.  She let out a raspy sigh that echoed the sound of steel wool against fingernails against a chalkboard against the sound silverware makes on dishes.  Her breath brought with it the stench of trash.  We yet again vomitted and cursed the dreadful hag for deceiving us and we went on our way, never to see her again.

But how come we get a chub everytime we look at a trash can?

Our journey was becoming tiresome.  Our legs ached and our balls' hue was exponentially drifting to the cool side of the color wheel.  All hope appeared to be lost.  Perhaps cats as gnarly as us just aren't destined for a woman's love.  We trudged through our gloom and many, many hobo colonies until we came to the one place that never ceases to uplift our spirits...the club.

Not this club...we got banned from this club for talking about it.  Also, we kept showing up naked.

We stepped off of the street into to The Boogie Bunker with the stride of a man whose unshakeable confidence could not be shook.  Our unflappable swagger could not be flapped.  Lights and music thumped in time with each other.  We tapped our feet to what sounded like remixed elevator music intercut with a pig-raping factory.  The dancer floor was a cataclysmic whirlwind of sex, sweat, and an amount of booty that'd make a pirate say, "Holy shit, that's a lot of booty."

And pirates know a whole lot about booty.

Then...we saw her.  This her was unlike any her we'd seen before.  This was the her for us.  She moved like an injured gazelle on a rapidly melting ice rink full of hungry panthers.  We began to dance towards her until our groove things were practically colliding with her denim forcefield.  She looked up and our eyes fucked each other.  It was true love.  

Our hearts rejoiced as she led us over to the bar.  She bought us many a beverage that sizzled through our entire bodies.  We sat back and enjoyed the ride she was conducting.  We didn't even order our favorite drink, Marshmallow Milkskey with two dozen olives, because we were so caught up in obeying her every command.  We were prisoners to her love.

And we were loving it.

Soon, things began to fade.  We frantically tried to regain clarity, but to no avail.  We stumbled and slurred and became the new record-holders for "Most Distance Via Vomit".  It was about this time that everything went black.

We awoke in a bathtub of ice with neat stitches along the side of our rippling, ten-packed abs.  We felt as though something was missing.  We were missing her.  We knew deep down that we would never see her again.  We couldn't help but feel empty at our recent loss of love.  Plus, we're pretty sure that we had like, no organs left whatsoever.

Breakups can be hard.

So, we did what any self-respecting man would do.  We got a taxi back to our headquarters and wrote some god damn monster-news.  Because in the end, it's not about love, it's about the world that harbors it.  And if it wasn't for us keeping the streets safe from creatures of the night,  you would never be able to experience the joy of newfound love. 

You're welcome, you ungrateful jerks.

Just remember that you're relationship is one step away from this.

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