You trying to say I lost my edge, bro? Just because I love my cat. And petting its soft fur. And rubbing its droopy belly. And kissing it on its wet nose. Somehow that makes me less cool? Just because I like pressing my face into its haunches. And cracking him open a can of wet. And staring at him for a full 15 minutes wondering whatever he could possibly be thinking. Now all of a sudden I'm not the dude I used to be?
Just because I've got to do the dishes. And do them for real. And remember to clean the outside of the bowls and bottom of plates because one time I forgot and was warned never to let it happen again. That means I'm no longer hip, homey? Because I prefer the soap that's easy on my hands but tough on grease. And know which pots are the most problematic, and which pans are the easiest. And enjoy the geometric puzzle that is the drying rack. You think I'm less down, dog?
Because I've got to clean the bathroom before the weekend is over. Especially the sink and the tub. And make sure to put all the shampoos back in their right place. You don't want to shotgun a beer with me? Because I try my best not to leave streaks on the mirror. And wipe the base of the toilet that no one even notices. And dump the little trash in the big one. Keg stands are out of the question? Because I sweep the floor before I mop. And vacuum the shower mat. And organize the medicine cabinet. Shots?
Oh, my bad dude, I guess it's not tight to water the plants, especially the new one. I guess wilting is what's hot these days. I suppose it's not sick to rush to yoga after work. Sure. And bike rides by the water are for douche bags. This guy. Next you're going to tell me it's not rad to leave no trace in your own apartment. Okay, whatever. Like clothes on the floor are so badass. You don't even know man. Quinoa salad is delicious.
That's right, I'll eat the kale. I'll eat the beets. I'll suck down a spaghetti squash. What you want to say about that? Sweet potatoes, stuffed portobellos, steamed broccoli -- I'll eat those foods whole. Screw you. Get off me. Nothing I like more than some salmon with some sugar snap peas on a Sunday night, I don't give a damn what you think.
Trying to say I'm no longer the shit, just because I gotta scoop my cat's out first before I change the litter. Calling me out just because I can name every member of every cast of The Real Housewives, and you can't even tell me who Andy Cohen is. Well Bravo, bro, you've managed to miss out on some quality entertainment. Looking down on me because I'm looking for two bedroom apartments in a quieter neighborhood with some decent schools. Oh yeah, I'm the only one freaking out about my life. You've got it all figured out.
I found my first gray hair yesterday. On my wife's head. And I loved it. I wanted to lick it. But that would be weird. So we just named it. And you're saying I don't know how to have a good time anymore. You should've been there. It was hilarious. Way better than that costume party you went to. With all those chicks. In those costumes. Partying. It wasn't even close. We got Pinkberry. With three different toppings.
Man, you used to be the man. Oh come on, I still am. No man, we used to chill. Oh come on, we still can. It's just not the same, man. Just tell me, what's the plan? I'll ask for permission to come meet you. It will be just like old times. Except I probably shouldn't stay out that late. I've got a big day tomorrow. The bathroom is a total mess.