… texted Smoketh in the middle of the night. This of course prompted a rapid texting frenzy to our Earth Mother Mrs. Therese–I wanted to tell her how Smoketh’s debut into the scene of romance lends validity to the truism that love can be discovered anywhere, that career, faith, and paraphilias can and will be transcended by true love, that in the hurly-burly of things all our fears, desires, and longings can be assuaged by the stirrings of the heart because the heart wants what the heart wants, and since I couldn’t articulate this at the time I just texted Mrs. Therese: May jowa na si Smoketh!

“KELAN PA?!?!” Mrs. Therese replied. Had this news not been so multiverse-shattering I would have assumed that the exclamation points represent cervical stripping going on at that time. After a few more text message exchanges I’ve pledged allegiance to Smoketh and Mrs. Therese that I would no longer facilitate further spread of this news out of respect to Smoketh and her newfound romance. You see, romance is tricky. It can sometimes hurt. You can hurt when you don’t see the person, but at the same time you also hurt when you see that person, like sometimes you just want to lie down and die from the hurt, when in fact no one is trying to hurt you and it’s all just love. So I pledged allegiance that I would let time take its course rather than have the public maul them with unwanted attention.

And so I went to the callroom the next day with a sheepish look holding Smoketh’s greatest secret and all, until Hurricane Katrina goes:
May jowa na si Smoketh!!! Nasa Facebook!!!

Ahoy!

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