Joined at the Hip
You must have been distracted when you grabbed the
Cosmo, because its not the sort of the thing we read,
but I agree, it's clear that the top ten things men want in
bed is a generalization of the worst sort,
and that if such a list could be compiled it would be better
represented as an independent series of Gaussian curves,
and furthermore #7 is damn near physically impossible,
such that even if all men did want they should never get it,
and christ man,
young girls read that shit.
Or perhaps you were just reaffirming your belief in the
banality of modern media, I can't be sure
because I must be the only one on Earth who didn't know
that 50cent and Ja Rule have a serious blood feud,
and that MTV thinks it could end up like 'Pac and Biggie,
and then where would rap be without its two leading lights?
So I'm sorry, I know I promised to cooperate with you,
but remember last week when we got drunk and googled our ex's,
and this morning when you asked me to read you our
horriblescope out of the Times, well,
you weren't complaining then,
even if you did say you were simply curious if they ever
made any empirically verifiable statements,
and preached to me about the sin of catering to the lowest
common denominator, as if I had written the damn thing,
when in fact I wasn't even the one reading it.
So if you could just be a little more consistent, and quit
scolding me for the desires you harbor yourself,
maybe we'd get along better, and you wouldn't have to
scream "Resist! Resist! Resist!" and cover your ears every
time I try to make a suggestion,
or go casually mentioning at parties how its bad enough
you have to live with yourself,
that you should have to live with me too,
and it being more than you can possibly bear.
So please dog, just buy the damn magazine so we can go to Border's.
I'll buy 50's new album, and you can get a double soy latte,
and we can just drink and groove in peace. Right?