Oatmeal Presents with Sarah Donner: The Motherfucking Pterodactyl

More people need to have this stuck in their heads.

Nice Guys Finish First. Sometimes Second. Sometimes They Forfeit.

So having a best friend and no boyfriend right now is directing all my love & attention towards my best friend (Who BETTER be reciprocating, biatch)
And I can't help but groan over how splendidly well her life is going right now & how mine's just <<insert rocket malfunctioning noises>>

So I wanted to write something tonight & I figured I'd stir up a little fictional non-fiction (You go oxymoron!) and talk about her...errmm...dilemma.

She's started getting kinda close to a certain person who's just, well....nice. 
But that's the problem,

He's nice. Has a rather lovely personality.


So guys like this are to be treasured & friend-zoned so that you never lose them; at least that's what I thought, right?
WRONG!

She"s been getting really close to him of late...really close. And is now stuck between 3 options;

1.) Friend zone him. Shut down any advances he makes so that he knows that the only base he's getting to is the nail polish kind. This way, he'll be your friend forever & ever & ever & ever & ever...
 (Really? Can't this be the only option?)

2.) Don't friend zone him. Be the perfect combo of sweet & sexy that inevitably leads to a relationship. Which, unless you get married & live happily ever after, will end sooner or later. Either very dramatically or very placidly. 

3.) Tap. That mother. Out.
In simpler terms: Ride this boy like a bronco & leave it at that. Benefitting friends. No mushy stuff. Purely physical. At least if the passion dies there, it'll be slightly less awkward & you can kind of go back to the way things were before once you get past all the "I saw you naked" weirdness.

All my arrows are pointing at no. #1 but it's not my decision. It's hers.

ION: I need some loving but until it comes to me, I shall divide my love equally between Snowie, Neil Gaiman & Blueberry tea. (Maybe just a bit more for Snowie, he's sensitive.)

Copyrights Belong to Lulu of Montparnasse

On the rue de la Huchette stands a hotel called Sadness,
The rooms are small & dark and the people stay inside them all day to hide from the sun.

The owner beats his wife everyday and then goes to the next room to make love to a girl who likes men and money and cherries but can't hold on to anything in her life.

While the owner makes love to her, the girl can hear his wife crying through the wall.
She moans louder to block out the sound.
The wife hears the girl's moans of pleasure and this makes her cry all the more.


It is a very loud night in the hotel called Sadness.

Love & Other Side Notes.

I'd also like someone to love because I have all this love inside of me that wants to break from its dusty, cobwebbed mold and just express itself the only way it knows how.

Sure, you're thinking- If all you need is someone to love, why don't you just...well...find someone to love?

It's not that simple, compadres. I don't control the love. It controls itself. Or there's some gland in the front lobe of my brain somewhere that controls it but until that's scientifically proven (DO IT SCIENTISTS)
It controls itself.

So when it finds that perfect way to manifest itself, it explodes and shoots out of me like a rocket and I really don't know how to deal with that...

But I try.

And all it needs is the right person and the right reason to do this.

And it's done. Houston, we are ready for take off.

Rocket launched.

It's Not Even 9pm Yet and I Still Found Something To Depress Me.

What do I want from this life?
Same as everyone else, I want to be happy.
What do you want?

Relax, I'm not very good at advice so I'm not gonna do that. I'm just thinking out loud keyboard.

I've said it. I want to be happy. This fake it 'til you make it crap is bullshit. I want a shot of happiness on the rocks and I WANT IT NOW.

I look around me and everyone's surface seems to be unrippled. Everything's hunky dory for them, just peachy. Maybe on the inside their tidal waves are crashing like me but their surfaces are so clean, I can't help but ask myself...how?

Why?

Don't listen to me kids. Don't study other people then compare yourself to them and proceed to whine about it on your shitty blog. It's only gonna get worse.
It only gets worse.
(God Mel, when did you start writing all this emo shit? How did you become so sad?)

On the bright side...
Atleast I'm breathing.
And I have a best friend whose life is so perfect right now I can only stick around and hope that some of the crumbs from her happiness rub off on me.

If I could. I'd make everyone around me happy. Just give them what they want.
"You want money? Err you go"
"New car? Don't worry about it."
"A baby? Merry Christmas bitches."

Then just stand and look at all these souls I've made better and hope that they don't pull a Gatsby on me.
See, my fucked up logic is that if everyone I know...even the lady who checks my bag at school...if all of them had just that one more thing to look forward to each day; something that would make their lives just that one megawatt more luminous. Then it'll reflect off me, right?
It'll bounce off me and I'll be happy like them.

I'll be happy.

I'll be happy.

I'll be...

Fuck.