Look, I got issues. It’s not like I don’t know. I am a psychiatrist you know, with a degree and everything. Wanna see? No? Fine, then take my word for it. I know I got issues. Who doesn’t?
It’s not that I don’t want a normal life. The whole white picket fence thing would be a gas, really, but ya gotta wonder… wouldn’t it get just a little bit boring after while? I mean, same thing, every day. Blue skies, green grass, white fence, blah, blah blah. Me? I need a little color now and then.
So Mr. J is more than a little color. Okay, he’s a lot like living in Technicolor, but it’s never boring, never the same, and never, ever, ever blah. I’d like to try the white picket fence thing, but only with my Puddin’. Y’know, just for kicks and kool-aid. But it probably ain’t gonna happen, because like I said, I got issues.
Besides, I don’t think Mr. J would like that. Not much of a gag there, except for annoying the neighbors. And really, that’s okay, I don’t really need that happily-ever-after white-washed schtick as long as I got my man. Anyway, all that sunshine would probably make my babies sick, and you ain’t seen disgusting ‘til you seen hyena barf. So, no white-picket fences for me. Not until Mr. J wants them too.
I’m not a doormat, no matter what others might think. I think some people ought to spend a little less time talking to the grass, is what I think. I’m not weak. I just got a few issues is all. But I know that.
keleos13 (
