The question was this: Would you marry someone totally nasty if they were a billionare? (You have to fuck them by the way.) And you know what my immediate respond was? I went like, yeah, if he was with the Mafia. So now I'm thinking just what the fuck is wrong with me. Nasty, I assume, as in demanding, controlling, deceitful and abusive. Not to mention heartless, cold and dangerous. Dirty. Hateful. Vengeful. And filthy rich. Well, basically nasty in every sense of the word which isn't nice at all. And why would I want someone like that, a nasty mafioso, no less, for a husband?

Trust me, him being a billionaire has got nothing to do with it.

I think I've been reading way too much gangster-related story where the woman get stuck in a loveless marriage with the gangster just because he has money and that he basically owns her. For some reason, that's appealing to me. I think? I'm not sure anymore. I confuse even myself...which reminds me of a conversation I had with Dorky involving kids. It went from "I don't want to have any kids" to "Okay, maybe I'll have one" to "Wait! But I want to have twins". Confusing, no? But back to me making my point:

So what, I get a kick out of the aggression and aggressivness? Is that it? Do I get a thrill out of it? How can I possibly even like the idea of it? That's just retarded. Life like that is hellish, hard, traumatizing, depressing - you get the picture. I'd most probably kill myself just to get out of it.

Motherfucker.

I've got issues.