Anti me doesn't want a draft beer.
Anti me doesn't want to hear your new favorite band.
Anti me doesn't want to eat anything BUT sushi.
Anti me doesn't want a snake in the house.
Anti me doesn't think your shirt matches your shorts.
Anti me doesn't care about the football game on tonight.
Anti me wants to hear jazz, while drinking wine and eating asparagus rolls, in my sarong, barefoot, playing Scrabble by candle light on the back patio, while Moon Kitty meows at my feet.
Yet, here I am.
My hair is in a ponytail, there is a smile on my face, we are giggling, all my kisses and attention heaped upon you. YOU. And I'm drinking a mother fucking IPA, wearing an over-sized Manchester United jersey, talking about the Beach Fossils on vinyl, screaming GOAL (!) at the television while munching on Tacos in some Sports Bar.
I love you.
We are not getting a god damn snake. Ever.
But you know, it's cool, because I fucking hate Tori too.
Tacos, beer and yelling at the television isn't a bad way to spend a day.
ReplyDeleteTell Anti me to pick up the tab.
Anti me gives you the finger.
ReplyDelete