Tonight's blog topic yields a short answer - so it is perfect for a Sunday night. Old imaginary friends I don't talk to anymore

As far as I know, I only ever had one imaginary friend whose name was Malcolm. Unfortunately, I don't remember when Malcom "came ínto my life" or when I quit talking to him. In fact, the only reason I even remember Malcolm at all is that I have two older siblings, who, during the course of family gatherings, feel the need to bring Malcom up. They never tell any stories about him, they just ask me if I've heard from him lately.

As far as I can tell, Malcom existed around the time I was five years old. I don't remember talking to him or freaking out if people sat on him or anything - but I must have talked to him or about him, because other people know his name.

Going by his name, I am guessing he was quite serious.

And that's the end. I don't really remember much about him, and I can't stretch this out anymore.

However, I can tall you this: I just switched the TV the Queer Eye marathon on TV right now, and within five minutes I heard the blonde guy compare an eyeball to a sphinchter, I learned the word "manscaping" and saw the Fab Five trim some poor schmuck's body and nose hairs. This I didn't need to see.