Friday, June 27, 2014

I Thought I Couldn't Care Less

I am attempting to be more thinly veiled in my comments, but am finding this very difficult as all of my veils are quite thick.

You stand outside at midnight basking in the moonlight, aside from the moments when clouds pass in front of the moon, then you look completely lost.

I hope to one day be worthy of someone else's attempts at sabotage.

You always refer to your skin as bark and your arms and legs as branches. This is all well and good, but what is most confusing is your overwhelming desire to chop down any tree you see.

I believe there is a cookie for every occasion, except for some types of brain surgery.

You clean your bathroom floor so it is "so clean you could eat off it". We are all a big fan of your cleanliness and your use of expressions, but this has us a bit worried.

I love the smell of pine as much as the next guy, but I believe in experiencing a diversity of odors and aromas in life. It's how I was raised.

You told me that you'd have to draw the line somewhere, I just wish you hadn't used permanent marker.

I am washing my hair and it feels great and then I start to wonder if it should feel so great.

You have always gone by the nickname The Big Cheese and only recently decided to make the moniker less-ironic.

I love the idea of being micro-managed, it just sounds like so much fun, but it is highly probable that I am not quite sure of the true definition of the term.

You love noodles and would seemingly eat them everyday, so I decided to test that by only cooking you noodles until it either drives you crazy or makes you extremely satisfied. It just doesn't feel normal unless you are one or the other. 

I am addicted to the feeling I get whenever I give into one of my long list of addictions, but after the initial thrill, it really really sucks.

You insist on wearing large googly-eyed glasses and accompanying it with a ridiculously large smile and a somewhat worrisome, yet completely infectious, laugh whenever you buy groceries.

I am torn between exercise to show off my newly muscular body, exercise for my health and well-being, or exercise as part of a long, drawn-out, so-meandering-as-to-render-it-almost-totally-confusing-and-meaningless act of 
vengeance. I know I should choose the second, but the other two are just so tempting.

You have chosen to go into business for yourself and, in your first act as owner, named me as both president and CEO and then, in a shady backroom-deal, wined and dined me and convinced me to squeeze you out and buy all of your shares at triple the market value. Now, here I am running this crappy little corner store that sells gum, stamps and fireworks, while you are off living it up in Hawaii.

I thought I couldn't care less about people's opinion that I am uncaring and then, recently, I was happily surprised to discover a whole new depth to my ability to care less. 

You appreciate the opportunity but completely disagree on principle alone with having to dance for your life.

I have decided to live my life more in accordance with the beliefs of the people of Papua New Guinea. Okay, if you must know, I spun the globe and randomly tapped my finger on that country. Let's just hope the rites and rituals I discover don't involve too much actual human or animal sacrifice (unlike last time I spun the globe, but I'm trying to forget that horrible, horrible week).

You repeatedly make me laugh, and though we both know why, we promised that neither of us will ever speak of this to anyone as we both know how scary that will be for all.





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