You dick, are a curse. And a dick.
Every time I'm cleaning the bathroom or mopping the floor, who shall appear. Nope, not Jesus. Nope, not Brad Pitt, or O'slammer. Nope, not Phoebe Cates. You dickbrain. This is not every once in a while, this is every single fucking time.
"I'm cleaning the bathroom," I say. "The floor is wet," I say. You don't even bother to ask if it is okay. You just fucking do what dickbrains do. I guess should I say, "stay the fuck out."
Well, I hate everything about you. Hate is a strong word. I don't like to hate. I hate to hate. But I'm a fucking hypocrite and I hate you.
Allright, I can get past you being a curse because maybe I am in fact the one who is cursed.
But I also hate you because you wear those stupid fucking sportswear glasses while doing your job, which I will avoid mentioning what you do, which doesn't require you to look sporty.
You aren't getting ready to play tennis. You aren't getting ready to shot put that disc. You aren't about to go on a marathon sprint.
You will just sit there for hours and wear your dickbrain glasses.
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