have this problem. I'm very very very fond of octopi.
I think I fancy them. I mean, what greater species
of undulating orange flesh has ever oozed this pitiful
planet? Lately, I have been having trouble
concentrating in class because I can't stop thinking
about octopi. Soft, vibrant, strong octopi. I live
octopi. But my parents are angry because my grades
are dropping! What should I do?
Signed, my soul is forever yours, An Anonymous
Admirer, in love with octopi in South Carolina.
You most certainly do have an enourmous problem. Normally, in such a situation I would suggest suicide, it solves more problems than you think. However, since your soul is forever mine, and I have that in writing, you will solve your problem the way I see fit. First I'm going to teach you a little lesson in strategic planning. It is very unlikely that you will be able to hook up with any octipi in this life, so your best course of action would be to meet up with all of them in the next. Fortunately, all octipi go to hell, as will you. What you must do before making the long journey from the hell that is South Carolina to the hell that is Hades, is eliminate all octipi from the face of the Earth. The best way to go about this is to buy some scuba gear, octipi nip, and a couple of sub machine guns. You may have to make some sacrifices such as your home, parents, social life, and all the money you could've made in your lifetime, but odds are, you didn't have much of these anyway if you actually admire me. Once your mission has been accomplished take the guns, shoot a jock, then shoot yourself in the head.
Don't worry, once you've shot yourself you can decide whether or not you made the right choice.
The current owner of a dipshit's soul,
Scott