Body,
Since you are always with me, you are quite aware that I occasionally make use of self-deprecating humor. Making fun of you has earned me quite a few laughs over the years. How pale you are. How graceful you aren’t. How you dance like your feet are chained together. I could go on, but I think you are all too aware of what I am talking about.
We've had some good times. It seems, however, that you enjoy this abuse a little too much and gotten the wrong idea about this arrangement. I am convinced of this, because you continue to develop characteristics that make it even easier for me (and others) to poke fun at you. Thanks, but I don't need the help.
Please stop.
Just give me the benefit of the doubt here. Even if you were Brad Pitt, I could find plenty of petty stuff to poke fun at. (Ok, maybe not. But if you were Brad Pitt, you would garner a whole different kind of attention, wouldn’t you?)
Let’s make a deal, you and me. You stop devolving and falling apart so rapidly, and I’ll try to like you more. If you would take better care of yourself, you might find yourself having more fun. Help me help you. That sounds fair.
Together, we can turn this thing around.
T
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1 comment:
If all else fails, you can always try to bribe your body. If it acts right, buy it a classy new neck tie or grow some kick ass facial hair.
My body secretly likes fancy hats. I haven't given in to it's demand yet. And therefore it revolts by waking up late every morning and sweating a lot around the ass cheeks whenever I step outside.
That wasn't too much information, was it?
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