The World's Most Beautiful Woman

Contrary to what my university colleagues may think, I am not gay. The fact that I hang around with Bot stems from my lack of ability to get to know people, and we went to the same high school. Simple as that. I enjoy sightly females as much as any other straight guy.

Went to band practice with The Dude yesterday, and afterwards he didn't have time to check the song arrangement I worked on because he was busy chatting up some chick. He sent me a pic of her from his own free will, and all my senses kicked into overdrive. Apparently, before me was the face of The World's Most Beautiful Woman.

I should have seen it coming, this dumb hormone rush. On the way to band practice, I occupied myself by staring at some dumb tart from the architecture department who was too busy yapping at some dudes to notice me ogling her. So, given the fact I was on a slight high already, no surprise that when a proper situation arose, I fell headfirst into hormone stew.

So, after a night of jealous wondering why The Dude gets all the chicks, and all the chicks are awesome to boot, I was dragged out of the house as we went to grab some pizza. I saw The World's Most Beautiful Woman in the parking lot, but then I also saw The World's Most Beautiful Woman inside the mall, then The World's Most Beautiful Woman was sitting at the table opposite of ours in Pizza Hut, then she left and The World's Most Beautiful Woman took her place, then my sister demanded carrot juice and The World's Most Beautiful Woman sold it to us... no, it's not that I was hallucinating, or the chick from The Dude's picture was following me around. It's just that my brain kicked into overdriven throttle and around 80% of all females aged 18-25 were deemed The World's Most Beautiful Woman for the time being, until a new one arose.

This was a first for me, and a weird sensation I'm not sure I want to experience again. It's obviously a defense mechanism for my lack of chances with the chick that he showed me (it's not that I'm a shallow guy who goes for looks and nothing else, by the way - he did mention having a wicked, intelligent conversation with her), trying to get my mind off her so I don't wallow in it, coupled with a natural hormone high that made itself present as I gawped at the architecture tart in the bus.

So, I'm still buzzing with that Molotov cocktail running through my veins. I may try to harness it tomorrow to write a good lead for that track the band has. The very best melodies are infused with strong emotion. Since I'm in such a state, maybe I'll manage to get something out of it.