This is a letter I've been meaning to write for awhile.

To You,

Can you explain something to me? How is it that he's been back in town for almost a week now and you've slept with me for 5 out of 6 of the nights?

When you were arrested, who did you call first to come pick you up? Who drove you to get your car from the towing company? Who talked you down until 9 in the morning?

If you didn't look so good in my Rooney jersey when you aren't wearing any pants I'd probably not have let you stay and although I may have played the "point to the couch and tell you to get the fuck out" story line in my head I cannot follow through for the life of me

Sometimes, I wish I was a cold beer.



You are considerably hindering my ability to get some whilst augmenting it at the same time.

Why do I have to be on this new "nice guy" kick?

3 comments | say something