Fact: At this point in time, I want a rat more than I want a unicorn.
Actually, I’ll take two, thank you very much.
They will ‘shoulder surf’.
I will make them fabulous, nutritious meals.
And fun toys out of things I have around the house.
We could play hide and seek. 
And they would display great athletic ability.
And help me with my writing. 
Enough said – I want one in my life.
P.S. Rats can beat the sh*t out of cats.
Since my birthday is around Christmas time, no one really takes much notice. This suits me fine, because I don’t like all the sentimental rubbish surrounding birthdays, except for the fact that when you age you get presents and there is one thing I want more than anything else in the entire universe.
I am 26 years old and I still want a unicorn. It is so bad that every single time someone tells me they got me a gift, I get super excited because I’m hoping it might be a unicorn.
Before you go off and call Tara or snigger to yourself about how ridiculous I am, please take note that your mother put the money under your pillow when you lost a tooth (she still has your tooth, where’s your R5?) and your farther is Santa Clause (he likes beer better than elves). And I am very aware that unicorns do not exist.
This is a source of serious distress for me because unicorns are awesome and my life would be complete if I had one. Especially the one that lives in my head (the same head that knows the Eater Bunny doesn’t exist either).
Unicorns are fiercely independent. Unlike a real pony (and I have one, so I know this), they do not need you to feed them. I don’t even know what unicorns eat, because they feed themselves. It’s in the unicorn manual that I wrote in my head. The same manual will explain how you don’t have to stable your unicorn in winter and it doesn’t need to be groomed. When you want to play with it, you call it by rubbing the special necklace it gave you when it decided to be your unicorn.
So, if I got stuck in traffic, I could call my unicorn to take me to work. Or, even better, to a client meeting. Imagine the reputation you would have for riding a unicorn? It’s way more impressive than a Ferrari. And because you’re thinking it, I’m going to say it: unicorns are rare. I would be the only person with a unicorn. But that’s probably because I want one so badly I could actually imagine one until it materialized.
And just like that, by having a unicorn as a BFF I would never have to worry about a hangover ever again. The horn of a unicorn neutralizes poison.
My unicorn wouldn’t care that I’m not a blonde virgin either.
If I had a unicorn and you were to piss me off I would get MY unicorn to stab you in the face. Because no one wants to be stabbed in the face, I would get my way all the time. Is there anything better than having your way all the time? Nope – there isn’t. Because of this, IF I had a unicorn I could decide whether or not I want to rule the world. I don’t really want to, but I do want the option.
The world would be a better place if I had a unicorn. No one can argue with me on this one. And if you do, I’ll cry. And it won’t be the first time I cry because I don’t have a unicorn. But I’m wishing hard and I’m doing it all the time, so, maybe one day. Think about that and how much it will hurt to be stabbed by a unicorn.
Antithetical 