A Love Story
By DB Flowers

It was 234 days ago today.  When the two best things to ever happen to me both entered my life, and within only hours left my life, taking only my pride and love with them. These girls, whoooeeee, these girls.  They were 10’s, They were dance machines, They were my Canadian Angels.  Now to be clear, They weren’t pretty in the traditional sense, or thin in the traditional sense.  And for that I’ve caught some flack.  But I’m done feigning shame.  Because it wasn’t what They stole from me that night, that has lasted the test of time, it was what They gave to me.  And that was a fresh outlook, a revamped attitude, and a new way to see the world.  That day marked not only a New Year, but also a new set of eyes for me to view the world in.  It’s time I admit that, via blog, where your insults will not be heard. Before today, I’d try to defend myself with the same tired old lines.  “I was sooo drunk…they looked sooo good.”  I felt as if I was only fooling myself.  Who knows, maybe I was.  The truth of the matter is, I wasn’t all that drunk and I was well aware how hideous the girls appeared to the discriminating lenses of the superficial and Hollywood brainwashed.  With their Barbies and Kens.  Their Pitts and Angelinas.  Whatever.
These girls had more than an exterior that would shy bears away, these girls had personality.  They had life. Ohhhh They had an edge.  It may have been Their dancing that brought me in, like a bee to the honey comb, but it was Their incessant smooches and soft touches that kept me by Their side, like the pilot fish to the shark.  And that mouth. As long as She kept talking the way only She could, I wasn’t going anywhere.  At times She talked even a little too dirty for me, but that was her, She would push the boundaries, make me push my own boundaries.  She forced me to do things I wouldn’t have done on my own, and isn’t that what you want out of a wife?  Ohhh man, my wife…if only.  At one point, I believe She mentioned something about Her butt, and things going in it, mouths somewhere in the mix, I don’t know, I just imagined She was asking me to be Her boyfriend, and a smile would practically explode out of me.  She loved that, She said my smile reminded her of the lights of Paris.  That sounded good to me, maybe one day She could show me around Paris, I thought, take me to some hole in the wall cafes, and wow me with some French history.  
Everyday I wish there was at least one photo of us together, or a tape recorder that captured the fireworks, even a name I can track Them down with, but nothing, just the memories.  Maybe it’s for the best.  Could they have lived up to hype my nostalgia has created.  I don’t know.  All I know is They had the mouth of a sailor, the grace of a ballerina dancer, and the body of a hippo. They had my heart.  I loved those girls.  The ones that got away. Better to have loved and lost I suppose.
So in summation, I wish all girls weighed over 200 pounds.  And came in pairs