A Dream Village and Chris

Oftentimes of late I yearn to live the village life. It would just be me and my family and friends (and some other older and younger people I guess, so that inbreeding would be a choice rather than a necessity). We'd probably be in the mountains somewhere, with the only way to traverse being through a dangerous mountain pass that is rumored to be haunted by Captain Stan's remains. Oh and we'd have a view of the sea, as well, which explains why someone named Captain Stan could haunt the pass, but also opens the possibility to escape by the water instead of through the mountain pass. So let's just say that the water is poison to boats, so no one can get out that way. In fact, Captain Stan was the only man who knew how to build a boat to resist the poison, but he was shot by his wife when she decided he loved the sea more than her.

In any case, one of my friends in this village would be Chris. Why?

Reason one: He requested I mention him in this...ugh..."blog"... or whatever it is until I think of a less vile word...

Reason two: He is irrestibly cute. Some who know him have referred to him as muppet-like, while some who do not refer to him as "Who the f are you talking about?" He can be cuddled, cradled, and, after one too many glasses of chocolate milk, spooned.

Reason three: He is a genius. Everytime I read something he has written my head explodes. Then, before my head even has a chance to put itself together, Chris makes my head explode again. If his weapon weren't literature, he'd be a criminal, and a damn good one.

So to conclude:

Villages are where people belong if they don't want their head to explode from the complexities of modern life. Chris is where people belong if they do want their heads to explode from the subtleties of societal reflection.