I am sitting across from you at a coffee shop.  I pretend to read, but I am really just staring at you with bad ideas in my head.  You see me holding Damaged by Andy Riverbed and say, "I went to high school with him and he once gave me a ride on his bike."  I tell you I don't own a bike and you say, "That's too bad."  Then we don't talk anymore until you get up to leave and say, "I made that part up about riding a bike with Andy Riverbed.  He actually invited me to his family's farm silo when I was a freshman before football players did macho things to me under the bleachers."  I nod.  Andy Riverbed decides he doesn't like this review and walks in and ignores everyone.  He kicks open the bathroom door.  Someone is putting on their wedding dress.  He shaves their head.  The woman's bridesmaids laugh.  Andy Riverbed sticks needles in their eyes and injects heroin.  I am afraid of heroin so I leave, but I'm curious so I put my face to the window and watch him write a poem for a girl named Carolyn.  I decide to do the same thing, but I don't know anyone named Carolyn.  Andy Riverbed wins.  Andy Riverbed always wins.