I'm not real, but I pretend I am in words.
May 7, 2011
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Would you mind if every single day I saw to it that you spent the entire evening relaxing after a long day with a nice glass of wine whilst having your shoes removed & your feet rubbed/massaged til all the stresses of the day disappear?
Would I mind? Surely you jest! No, no, but I think it more likely that you would grow weary of rubbing my feet and pouring my wine, and I would start to nag you, and you would ask me why I wasn’t getting a job, and I would say, “You don’t really love me!” and you would say, “What’s love got to do with it?” And I would say, “Don’t bring Ike and Tina into this, they had a terrible relationship!” And you would say, “What the everlovingfeck are you talking about? Can’t you just be happy with daily foot rubs and wine, for chrissakes?” And I would cry, and you would look at me with disgust, and I would secretly think that I’m a schmuck and that you secretly think I’m a schmuck, and I would say, “I never deserved foot rubs every day, anyway. I have always relied on the kindness of only once-in-a-great-while foot rubs.” and then you’d say, “We’ll always have feet.” And I would say, “Here’s looking at the top of yer head, kid.”
See? These things always end tragically.- formspring.me
