Syrup on Shit
Old fuck face is back on the phone again. I really just want him to get a soar throat and not be able to sit here and say:
"Awww rwwweaallllyyyy."
"Aww I love you too baby."
"Yes, ok, yes, I'll make sure to research the purchase of the new remote."
He sits here and talks on the phone with this faceless person for 20 minutes. Look, I want to make it clear to this man, somehow, that if you are that strapped for attention and emotion at this stage in your relationship then my man you are fucked. No, I mean, seriously fucked. How long do you think it lasts before you guys stop calling each other and stop. making little baby noises over the phone? Because, if you need that shit now to get through your day, then, eww, ewwwwww, in a couple years you are going to look back and see the shambles of what could have been. Maybe it's not all that exagerated. Maybe it's just me being observant and making theories (feel free to give me my tag line sweety) that I don't understand. I know this though. I know that I hate this man. I hear him every day. I hear him and his partner at 9:15 talking about their plans for the day. I hear him and his partner at 11:30 talking about lunch plans that they don't even have with each other. I hear him and his partner at 4:45 wishing each other a safe trip home and discussing traffic strategies. I hate him. I hate him because of his routine. I hate him because of his complacency to be exactly what he always mocked. It's just a rotten way to start off my day.
