Ain’t it funny babe? The way every time I write one of these I make all these promises of how stinking rich I’ll be one day and how much I’ll spoil you on our anniversary and then the next one rolls around and I’m still pretty much broke?
Thank Christ you’re not with me for the money. It’s always been a source of great happiness for me that you’re not one of those girls.
The ones obsessed with material bullshit. Obsessed with shopping and girly pop music and puke-worthy rom coms and things that are pink.
It’s always been a great source of happiness for me that above everything, you are real.
You have the courage to speak your mind and are incapable of lying or putting on false airs for the sake of impressing people too shallow-minded to accept others for who they really are.
That takes real guts. I’m sorry I don’t give you more credit for just being you, in this photo-shopped world of glossy fabrication, that’s a rare quality.
So here we are, five years down the road, living in our little flat in Vredehoek with a stray cat you brought home that has since become a part of our family of two, and no shit, I couldn’t be happier.
What a rare thing to find in this life. True happiness, the kind that flows effortlessly and in abundance and fills your life with purpose and a sense that this crazy fucked-up world ain’t so bad after all.
When I walk into a room I stand that much taller and prouder because I know that no matter what the people there may or may not think about me, I must be worth a damn because you love me.
You’ll never know the calm strength that gives me.
Before you I was a piece of loose shrapnel, bouncing off the walls, tearing everything around me to pieces, getting slowly crushed by my own vices and full of so much rage babe, so much unfocussed anger and hate at the world for all the times it chewed me up and spat me out.
I was a time-bomb. Dramatic as it sounds. I was a statistic waiting to happen.
After that first weekend we spent together all those years ago, I went around to Peggles’ place and the change I’d undergone after just two days with you was written all over me.
He could see it, plain as day, the inferno had died down, the churning maelstrom inside had finally grown still.
Sure, that age-old rage still wells up in me sometimes, that powerfully destructive energy I’ve fought to control my whole life, but one look, one touch from you and it subsides.
Thank you babe, for dating a fucking maniac like me. The world needs to know how brave you are because there isn’t a woman I know who would have toughed out the hard times with me like you have.
You might have the nickname Jessica Rabbit, but deep inside you’re a lioness. The Tiger and the Lion. When we have kids they’ll be Ligers.
I know we came close this year to ending it all and we went through some dark and heavy times, but we made it through all that shit and I swear, we’re stronger for it.
I know this because despite everything we’ve been through, I’m still the happiest man alive to fall asleep with you in my arms every night and wake up next to you every morning.
This is the real deal babe. The giant L-word people search their whole lives for and in some cases, never find.
But I know I’ve found it with you. You’re my companion, my lover, my strength and my sunshine.
You’re my perfect piece of DNA, caught in the flashing rain.
I love you Jess, happy anniversary.
-ST
The Tiger Is A “Duscusting” Person
Tags: circus animals, fun police, hostile comments, punctuation saves lives, sense of humour failure, stray cat recipes, why so serious
My god it feels like ages since I last posted on this junkyard site, my apologies to my regular readers. To say I’ve been busy over the past two weeks is a total understatement – I’ve been livingbreathingeatingshittingsleeping work, but things are finally calming down a bit.
So yesterday I hit up into the backend of my site (um, wait, that doesn’t sound right…) and I find a comment I just had to share with you guys because the person who wrote it is clearly mentally handicapped / insane and should not be allowed within fifty feet of the interwebs.
A little context before I post her gem of a comment. The post she wrote it about is nearly a year old and was written (ironically) after a bout of not posting for a few days because I was snowed under.
I called the post “The Tiger Jumps Back On The Horse†and posted the following pic because, well, it shows a tiger on a horse:
So here’s what “Natasha†had to say about that pic:
What a load of total and utter fucking bullshit!
For the record, I have never hurt or made an animal suffer EVER, I have never locked a wild animal up in a “tiny cage†and I have absolutely nothing to do with the fact that animals are part of the circus.
All these fucking assumptions just because I posted a pic I stole off the interwebs somewhere. And don’t even get me started on the awesome grammar in that comment.
Believe it or not, this is not the first time something like this has happened.
Anyone remember the “Stray Cat Recipe†post I banged out last year when times were tight and I had to resort to eating stray cats to survive?
Yeah, the comment I got from that one was even better. Check it:
So there you have it folks. I am a DUSCUSTING and cowardly human being with too much time on his hands (ha! Christ, I wish) who should throw himself in front of the nearest oncoming train and do humanity a favour.
Incidentally, you should definitely read my reply to the comment above, good times!
Let this be a warning to you all – NOTHING is funny anymore. The world is a fucking SERIOUS place so you better get in line and wipe that goddamn smirk off your face.
The Fun Police are locked and loaded with more passive aggression than you can shake a stick at and they’re coming for us brothers and sisters.
It’s blood for blood by the gallon.
And I’m ready for war.
-ST