Hi, it's me again.
Craig.
I ask for you, the reader, to hang-out.
As you and your friends read with enjoyment at my miserable life that I have created.
You have read my ad a dozen times,
"Hey! My name is Craig and I just moved to this town and am looking for friends to hang out with.  I am interested in sports, talking about anything and going out at night.  I'm a relaxed guy who is into meeting new people."

The truth is:

I was never very good at sports.
I got one hit in my little league career that my Dad would forcefully take me to each game.
I never understood why reading was, "the stupid choice" as he would say whilst dragging me by the collar of my baseball jersey.
Instead of playing a sport where a young boy with not nearly respectable motor-skills
would proceed to hurl a ball as fast as he could at me.
But, when I got my one hit I stood there in shock and immediately
got thrown out before I even made it half way to first base.
That was stupid.

I do not really talk all that much.
In college they nick-named me, "****** Craig".
As you can tell, I did not go to Creative College University.
I liked studying and would spend most of my nights in the library fixated on chemical engineering.
I always thought if I studied hard enough I would be able to create my own friends through different variable compound genetics.
It did not work out.
And that is the story of how I mutated my gerbil...

I have no friends to go with at night, except Butterball.
She's my eight year-old tabby cat.
I tell her all the gossip in the world when we watch "The Soup" together.
Her personality is rather complacent.  
She does not understand the irony in Kanye West naming his child North.
I know she is just being stubborn.

I often Google search Images for Kate Upton.
She does not know it yet, but we are perfect for one another.
I can tell.
There is this feeling I get when I bring one of her pictures into photoshop
and count all the pixels that make up the perfect woman.
There are seventy-four pixels within the iris of her eye where her soul lies.
Each one unfolds into the life we will soon have one-day...

I order the same pastrami on rye sandwich
from the same deli
at the same time
every Tuesday and Friday of each week in hopes
that they will get excited when I walk in.
I leave them a dollar tip
each time
even though I am picking it up myself.
They still treat me like an average customer.
A simple nobody.

I have the face people want to punch.
I often will get into fights by simply just standing there.
It does not add up or make coherent sense.
It seems as though people revert back to primal instincts when they drink alcohol.
Suddenly this area in line at McDonald's is this guys main priority.
I politely back away and him and his five high-school buddies cut in front of me.

To the entire world:
I am ordinary.
There is nothing worse in this life than being ordinary.
But, to some person at some special point:
I will be extra-ordinary.
And I will have the appreciation for that person that no other one person can ever understand.
Because, that person who finds me will have saved a life.
My life will restart anew with that love.
Thank you.

Sincerely,
Craig-
*********
Location: Everywhere your eyes will judge.
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests