Tuesday night TV sucks.
Red’s on the couch screaming at the channels, “NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.”
The TV can’t hear you fuckface!
She settled on the food channel… no surprise.
5 minutes ago:
Red- I want a donut
Me: no response
Red: I want a donut
Me: no response
Red: Did you hear me! I want a donut! I hate when you write!”
Me: I FUCKING HEAR YOU! YOU WANT A DONUT! I’M TRYING TO FUCKING WRITE!”
Red: Ohhhh myyy Goddd, look at that truffle they are making.
Oh my Jesus… Anyways, while I was spinning a dreidle during Facilities Management Class I was told to shut up and listen. I shut up and wrote a poem instead. It’s a bit sentimental, but sometimes I reach into my corrupted soul and pull out my soft side.
It’s day “111”
Day “I love you more than day 110”
Day “I sure do hope this never ends.”
It’s day “I’ve missed you for 20 years”
Day “Tell me your secrets, your worries, your fears.”
It’s day “Let’s skip life and lay in bed.”
Day “I loved you before I love you was said.”
It’s day “I know I’m not the greatest thing.”
Day “You’re better than great, you’re perfect to me.”
Day “I like you here with me”
Day “You get better everyday”
Day “Your smile makes me smile”
Day “Your voice makes me melt”
Day “I love you more than people love people.”
Day “I’ll shake on my heart if you don’t break the deal.”
It’s day “111”
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