Here's Cole—a real person, a real Chicagoan, and a real good writer. After talking to him, we're never visiting the Chicago Skydeck.
Just so you don’t become insecure (not that you ever would, you fragile narcissist, you), it’s not about your looks. You’re very attractive, and I’m sure you’ll find someone else to love you. Someone else to spend their money on you. Someone else to worship you at your highs and lows, in your endless shades of blues, and your fucking curves that only just recently stopped making me dizzy. But that person isn’t me.
What Shannon’s trying to say here (and by “trying to say,” I mean being absolutely 100% on the money) is that the Blue Lagoon is a grand total of one of the things it claims to be: blue. It’s not even a lagoon: It’s a well-constructed swimming pool attached to a modern-day looking spa that didn’t even attempt to camouflage itself in the same hues of the beautiful scenery it totally and completely disrupts, yet claims to be a part of.
Shannon and I have been writing on the Internet for a bit, and, as such, we've dealt with some people who love sipping on Haterade. Instead of just plain ignoring them, we've decided to deal with them in the most fruitful way possible: publicly.
7:56 AM - There is no coffee.
Interchangeably, there is no God.