I love Water. I just love it. God, I could drink it all day. Glass after glass after glass. I could shower in it, it’s that good. I could take a bath in it, I don’t care what people think. I’m madly in love with Water. I want to marry Water. I want to make love to Water. We’d go on a long honeymoon. We’d go to Rome. The Pope would bless our union. This is my beautiful bride Water, I’d say. She’s quiet, don’t mind her. She’s sometimes cool, sometimes ice cold, sometimes lukewarm. You can heat her and she’ll boil. But if you ever fucking touch her I’ll kick your fucking ass. I’m very protective of Water. If you look at her strangely or make some stupid comment, I’ll break your fucking neck. I swear to God. I’ll do anything for Water. I mean that. People say they’ll do anything for the ones they love but they don’t really mean it. I mean it. I’d kill for Water. If Water says to me, Darling, this man (or woman) must die. I’d say, Okay, baby. I’ll do it. I’ll kill him for you. That’s how much I love you. You don’t see that kind of love nowadays. It’s divorce, divorce, divorce. People have no dedication, no passion. They just wind up with someone, shrug, and say, Okay, guess I’m with this person. But that’s not me. When I first met Water, I knew. I knew I was going to be with Water the rest of my life. There wasn’t even a question. I was going to love Water, even if she didn’t love me back. I was going to do anything for Water. Anything at all. Water, I say to her. Darling, baby, love of my life, soulmate, best friend, lover, I’ll always be with you.