Wow! I got some great questions last week. Instead of boring you with the fascinating, inexplicable ramifications of my profound love for my long-term girlfriend Candace (she’s my girlfriend), let’s just get right to your queries!
What would you do if you saw Candace making out with a different sir? Hypothetically, that is. Of course, that could never really happen. Sirs don't grow on trees, you know. Nor does bacon, for that matter :'(.
Rexford, I’m trying to answer this question. It’s just that… this is really difficult to imagine. I’m reading your words over and over again, and they make sense, I know they make sense—they’re in the right order and everything! You’re saying that Candace (my girlfriend) is making out with someone. Now, here is where I imagine myself, just making the heck out with her, everyone in the 7 Eleven is hooting and hollering, people are buying hotdogs and slushies for us, and an eagle flies overhead and winks at us—the typical scenario. But you’re saying it’s not me, but some kind of “different sir?” That just… it doesn’t make sense. If you were to define me in a dictionary, it could very well say:
Reid (n) rēđ
- A person who makes out with Candace.
- A gifted young man a lot of people talk about and get super jealous of. Ex: “I wish Reid weren’t so good at mountain biking and making flavorful foods. I’m very jealous of him and the happy life he has. Now if you excuse me, I have some crying to attend to.”
- A person who makes out with Candace.
- An expensive shirt.
Don’t you see? Two of my definitions—two—are “a person who makes out with Candace.” So when you say someone is making out with Candace, that means I am making out with Candace.
With that in mind, I think I understand your question now. You’re asking: what I would do if I saw myself making out with Candace? Oh, well that’s very simple: I would join in. I’m sure I wouldn’t mind. I’m sure this fact will probably upset some of you, but I don’t care. Candace likes to make out with Reid, and only Reid, and if that means multiple Reids, so be it.
Do you ever get your beard hair in Candice's mouth? Does she get angry? Or throw it up in your mouth?
First off, Shelvy, I think next time you ask a question you can avoid using swears like this. The T word? I expected more from you. But to answer your question: yes. My beard hair gets in her mouth like a rowdy teen gets into a movie theater—excitedly, on Fridays, and with all its friends. Of course beard gets in there sometimes, but in the heat of the moment, you just kinda go with it. It’s not uncommon for us to completely black out, and forget about the outside world when we’re really into it. One time, after a long sesh (this is short for “session”), when we finally finished we noticed that we were surrounded my rubble, weeds, broken up cement, and shattered glass. Somehow, in the midst of us making out, and building we were inside of (a 7 Eleven) had been demolished. We had completely blocked it out. Apparently the construction workers decided not to bother us, because stopping something so beautiful would be too painful for them to endure.
However, she’s never T-worded in my mouth before, mostly because she likes getting all this beard in her mouth. Not only is my beard very well conditioned and shampooed, but it also tastes pretty good, probably from all the expensive foods I’ve spilled on it. You’re not just getting beard in your mouth, you’re getting filet mignon, brand name macaroni and cheese, 7 Eleven slushies, and portabella mushrooms in your mouth. It’s even more than just tasty, it is quite literally nourishing. Sometimes she skips meals after we (very) passionately kiss one another for extended periods of time, and not because she has to watch her figure (she doesn’t), it’s just because she’s too full.
Have you ever liked a girl other than Candace? I mean we all know you're perfect, which means other girls must throw themselves constantly at you. Have you ever even considered dating someone other than Candace (this includes before you met her)?
I will agree with you on one fact: girls (and fully mature women and some grandmas) throw themselves at me constantly. I’m very popular, and a lot of people like me and I have a lot of friends you’ve never even heard of. However, I don’t think I’ve ever been duped into liking any of them. I believe there is a part of my brain that simply couldn’t understand the idea of liking someone until I met Candace. Part of this is probably due to my extremely demanding criteria for a girlfriend. Among the things I look for: extreme intelligence, attractiveness (enough to make other ladies go “oooh”), durable lips, training in the martial arts, fluent in Latin, photographic memory, knowledge of automotive repair, a thesis in organic chemistry, strong calves, the ability to talk to animals (but not horses), at least one (preferably two) secret robotic appendages, a house with secret doorways and passages, a relative who plays for a professional baseball team, and a good personality (enough to make other ladies go “oooh”). So, obviously, no woman really seemed worthy of my affection before Candace—who, by the way, meets every single one of those criteria.
That’s it for this week! Leave questions in the comments, and I’ll answer what I can next week! Thanks for the excellent questions, and as always: I love you, Candace.