As I rebuild my iTunes library after two computer crashes, I've come to realize my twenty-six-year relationship to Duran Duran is the closest I'll ever come to marriage. The bonds are steadfast, unbreakable and powerful. Here's how my love is similar to matrimony:They make me happy 95% of the time (not with Pop Trash and Medazzaland, though love "Hallucinating Elvis" and "Michael"). I may not approve of everything they do, but I don't intervene as this might make the rebellion last longer.
After a few years of hormonal passion for each one, I no longer desire them in *that* way (though I'm sure I would engage in maintenance sex to avoid marital discord).
Much of my income goes to cultivating our union (i.e. new Duran Duran totebag).
Just when I think I love someone more (Fleetwood Mac), Duran Duran does something so adorable, my love burns brighter.
I no longer know where they begin and I end.
I'm sure if one of them had the stomach flu, I would care for them even though I hate barf.
They grow more beautiful and vibrant with age.
When we argue over issues (continued objectification of jailbait models in latest album), I listen to the music and never go to bed angry.
If one of them is sick (i.e. recently, Nick's ear infection), I'm inconsolable and worry every second.
When I see them in concert or hear them, all is right with the world.
Now if only they would cook me dinner when I get home...
2 comments:
It's about 90% accurate, but I'm not telling which parts. Of course, I've not have the pleasure of 26 years with HersheySideKick, although it often seems like it.
You are an inspiration to Dish for your monogamistic ways--and many other things, of course.
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