I’m just saying that it’s kind of a cruel joke, that two people meet and fall in love and are somehow supposed to live together forever, when first of all, even Aristotle couldn’t really explain eternity, much less two kids of sixteen and seventeen. I mean, when you met a hundred and fifty-six years ago, like we did, how was I supposed to know that he would someday walk around the house shouting “I LOVE A PARADE” for no reason? Or that he’d say, “What?” every time I speak words? At that point in time, I was only a child, and we were smack dab in the middle of the Civil War, so probably my corset was too tight or something.
And to be fair, Wanye (rhymes with Kanye) probably didn’t know that I was going to be too dense to understand Daylight Savings Time or how to read a map. But he thought I was pretty, he was starved for sex, and probably he was hungry because they hadn’t invented Wavy Lays yet.
So yeah, this whole thing seems like it was some kind of setup. I’m just trying to figure out who got the short end of the stick. And also, I’m not sure we met in the 1860’s (I’m not very good with numbers), but if we did, I want to be perfectly clear that I definitely did NOT own slaves. Even though I haven’t gotten my ancestry.com results back yet, when I do, I’m sure I’ll be able to prove that I come from a long line of white trash.
Anyway, I’m not sure whether this marriage thing is a joke or a game, but just in case there’s a way to win it instead of just being mocked for it, I’m keeping score.
