All it Takes are Balls of Steel

Sometimes, when I see the same strangers around all the time I like to make up little back stories and motivations for their actions even though I know nothing about them. There's a guy in my apartment complex that I'm pretty sure has actual balls of steel (at least according to my imaginary back story for him).

Let's discuss balls of steel guy.

A few weeks ago I started seeing a guy and a girl walking around every evening. Through only the 3.2 seconds I saw them as I drove by, I decided that they were friends but this guy wants to get out of the friendzone and into the bed. I came to this conclusion for a few reasons:

1. They aren't ever walking very close or touching in any way.

2. The girl is wearing a scarlet velour jogging suit. Yes, really.

3. She pushes a baby stroller containing...a tiny Pomeranian. Yes, a dog. In a stroller. Beyond my own complete lack of understanding as to what the point of walking your dog is if the dog isn't actually walking, any person willing to be seen in public with this chick either has balls made of actual steel or is putting the pussy on a pedestal (as The 40 Year Old Virgin would say).

I say all this to say: If I ever drive by you, I'm probably making up your whole life in my head and that's why I'm staring. 

Also, my life is unexciting and I have nothing else to blog about.

Because this looks so short and blank to me, here's a picture I just re-found of my entire family standing under a sign that says someone else's names at a wedding chapel in Vegas (it hadn't switched to my parents' names yet and we're a little...touched.)

There in the middle you'll see...not Denise and James.