I wouldn’t say Barry Manilo isn’t my friend but sometimes you can spend too much time in the company of others. It was a long night and we had just finished watching an all-day marathon of Survivorman when the obvious question came up;

“What would you do if you ate a banana and someone stole your identity”

“Mani-mellow listen, its late and you are obviously a great singer but my identity is theft proof for two reasons. The first being I don’t kick very high and the second is my ongoing addiction to salty de-shelled pistachio nuts”

The awkward silence was not caused by a confusing question or an even more bewildering response rather it was the fact that during my confession Barry started crying like a little girl and immediately started laughing. Now I know everyone knows what kind of cry laugh I’m talking about because grade 8 was a staple for that kind of thing. As if newly acquired mammograms weren’t enough hormones had forced, at the time, a whole section of the species to inconspicuously develop the ability to cry and laugh at the stupidest things. I only need to say “Titanic” and you will either understand what I’m talking about or you were one of those sobbing bitches.

Needless to say the night was getting weird and I was opposed to the idea of hanging around to find out if Barry’s emotional breakdown was going to lead to a cold cucumber and a warm dream. But before I could leave Rod Stewart burst through the window guns blazing and by guns I mean biceps better known as man pipes (Spanish *pipinyadas*).

“I will destroy you clone!!”

“You cant do that I have many more middle-aged women to impregnate”

“…fine…”

Now I cant be responsible for cats because they are sooo cute.

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