Jossay's Return: Part I

Often in my mind a nagging Thought creeps about. It settles in the folds of my brain and scratches with its claws until I can't ignore it any longer. "Who?" it asks, "Who, is your favorite person?"
By no means would I ever give any regard to this itchy little Thought. I know far too many glorious and wonderful humans to be so biased. However, if that Thought were to re-think itself, and instead ask, "What is your favorite person?" I could make a reply.

Perhaps in order for one to understand this, I must outline a story to further clarify the facts. Unfortunately this particular story will be very vague and will perhaps cloud up the situation even further. I don't find it unsettling however, and neither should you. There is, after all, only one who will truly know.

There is a body outlined in white. It's shaving cream-no- it's chalk. Either way, it looks dead.
We are so very clever. You may even say that we are stupid cool.
I owe you $1.60. We sit in the car and listen; we are completely quiet, still dressed in our concert black.
Somewhere from my left I hear sarcastic snorts. I turn my head. We make eye contact, grimace, and quickly turn away to hide our smiles. Mr. Thompson has something on his lip... or is that big gay Al's idea of a joke? Either way we laugh the same. It rises to its peak and then ebbs slowly away until it dies. By no means is it a graceful laugh, but it is nothing close to a man's.
No bake cookies are no good. They have turned into peanut-butter oatmeal mush. There are a couple mixed up cards, and some phone calls that have provoked anger; and lies that have ensured it.
A 1945 editon of Pride and Prejudice. A precious note scrawled across lined notebook paper.
Everything is set right with a perfectly organized glass cabinet at one o'clock in the morning.
Crepes make a delicious meal. Tea, anyone? Yes, we love old books.
Will you have seconds? Yes. Thirds? Yes. Fourth's? Ye- No!
Oh how we shall always regret...

Perhaps I should thank you.
To be joined at the hip -related by name and not by blood- is indeed an honor.
Pesky little Thought! If you were to ask the question again, I could indeed make a reply.
And it would go something like this:
Jossay forever!