This is just an exercise in first person perspective, the perspective I love writing the most. ----------------- I think life is a game and there are many ways to play it. You can roll the dice, move ahead a few spaces, maybe fall back a few spaces. However, it's not a competitive game, or at least I don't believe it's meant to be that way. We make it competitive. We also make it sad, depressing, angry, and frustrating. We have the ability to make it happy, loving, equal, and enjoyable. Yet, we thrive on chaos and disorder. I've never really figured out why because I enjoy order. It makes me think of the last time me and my buddy Wes went to a big city bar. We were doing our usual thing, just relaxing and looking for a little love from the ladies of Boston. The thing about these Boston women though, they're tough. Aside from wearing a Yankee cap, the best way to get your ass kicked in Beantown is to piss off a Boston woman. Wes did that once, tried to get a girl with one of his infamous Bond-style pick up lines. "I dreamt about you last night, baby," "Oh really?" "Yeah babe, you were sucking me off." Wes isn't very smooth. So maybe it isn't Boston women, but Boston men. Some of us aren't as rowdy and party-hardy like TV seems to think. When Wes rolls the dice, he goes for the 10s, which is the worst way to do things. Maybe it's because Wes is a 7 at best. He loses a point for being five foot four because women seem to have a fixation for guys six feet and over. Something to do with penis size. He loses another point for being scrawny and his last point lost is because he still listens to ABBA. I'd grade myself, but it'd be bias. People have called me handsome plenty of times. I'm not exactly buff, but I've got a physique much better than Wes. I've also got about a half a foot on Wes, so I pass for six feet tall easily. I still listen to the Backstreet Boys, but I keep that to myself, something Wes needs to learn. --------------- More to be added later.