Valentine’s Day 3

HIM: HI honey how are you.

ME: I’m in Beverly Hills, and this damn woman, who just happens to be Asian, is driving like the road is her driveway…

HIM: Now, now, you’re beginning to sound like Brooke.

ME: I am NOT sounding like Brooke… Brooke is racist… she hates all Asians cause Tucker’s dating one.

HIM: She’s not racist.

ME: Please! She said she didn’t like Laylee cause of Pearl Harbor… and when I said, Laylee’s Chinese… she said so what… and HOW DARE YOU defend your back alley concubine to me.

HIM: She’s not my concubine and I’m not defending her.

ME: Well your illicit congress resulted in a child. That sounds like the work of a virtue impaired man and concubine to me.

HIM: Illicit congress? What is this 1812?

ME: You make my head hurt. What do you want?

HIM: I just wanted to know what you wanted for Valentine’s Day?

ME: I shouldn’t have to tell you what I want for Valentines Day.

HIM: Good. I’m writing you a Poem.

ME: What?

HIM: Yeah, How does this sound so far? Roses are red, Violets are Blue, I love you more than Mountain Dew.

ME: Unless you’re throwing diamonds at me when you give me that poem… it sounds like we’re going to be on the news on Valentine’s Day.

HIM: So WHAT do you want?

ME: I shouldn’t have to tell you.

HIM: Just yesterday on your radio show you were talking about how women should communicate with men and not expect them to just know what they want. You’re such a hypocrite.

ME: Listen I’m just trying to help heterosexuals mate. What I say to them, does NOT apply to us.

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