Lori is everything I've ever dreamed of in a girlfriend...she's loving, friendly, funny, resiliant, feisty, brave, and a Sex Goddess (sorry kids. I know...TMI). I marvel at the good fortune that had me arrive on her doorstep on that April day.
If she died, I wouldn't really have sex on her grave with some floozy I picked up in a bar... but don't tell her. I want her to worry about it enough to take her blood pressure medicine and grow old(er) with me.
Next to Lori, the greatest love of my life (cue swelling music) is MelonKiwi... or Mr. Wi, His Beautiful Wi-ness, Melon Louise. It was also an act of serendipitous luck that brought Mr. Wi and I together on that fateful evening in the Dixie Barbecue parking lot. And great luck that beneath his filthy, matted fur and ungodly flatulence, his essential Wi-ness shone through (but not his essential wenis...that's still buried somewhere in all the fluff).
Were I not an unrepentent Atheist, I would praise some higher power for bringing these two into my life. But since I'm a Godless heathen/secular humanist/commie pinko dyke who's going to spend eternity in the fiery pits of hell for my unnatural loves, liberal politics, and nonbelieverhood, I'll just quote the famous philospher:
"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world,
she walks into mine"
Happy Valentines Day, Lori. I love you more than I could ever say.
(oh...and click the title. There's a link to "Middle Aged Women". It starts out slow, but listen to the end. You'll be glad.)