"I like honesty. It's sexier than hipbones."

I've been in touch with Mybug a lot recently after he added me to his Facebook. He really comes out with some surprisingly insightful stuff sometimes and it's hard to believe he's only nineteen. I discovered that he wants to be a writer, but struggles to get his ideas on paper because of his ADHD. He told me about some of the stuff he likes to write about though and the dude has seriously genius ideas.

Then there's the other side to him. I'll let this exchange illustrate the other side of Mr. M.

Chica: My deadline is May 1st! I'm cacking it.
Mybug: Don't worry, pass or fail, I'll still go down on you.

As for his more sagacious incarnation, he summed up my crush on Alfie in the following terms (an edited version of preamble included for the sake of context):

Mybug: What do you want to be?
Chica: When I grow up??
Mybug: I know practically nothing about you apart from the fact you have a nice arse. So what do you think about when you wake up?
Chica: Sorry to say I currently think about someone I shouldn't
Mybug: Who is this Zorro of your dreams?
Chica: Some dickhead I should know better than to like
Mybug: What's this guy like? Do you even know why you like him?
Chica: I find him exciting, but he's a nob. He's a player, he loves himself
Mybug: Maybe that's why you like him
Chica: I don't normally go for bastards
Mybug: A mixed combination of wanting to stand out in the crowd in front of him and subconsciously prove to yourself that you're special and trying to maybe be a bit more daring yourself. You did say before you always used to want to take the hardest route

Isn't that quite wise coming from a nineteen year old boy?*

Apparently we are going to sit and drink rum all night and exchange stories. This may not happen though; we're also going to get a flat in Mississippi and keep chickens.

*Oh my God. I've just realised that when this all began, he hadn't even turned nineteen yet. Wrong.