I was not put on this earth to make everything perfect forever for you. Don't expect me to do so.
Say what you mean, rather than continually set me up for guessing games which I fail at and then you cry.
I won't admit to being in pain or ill. Hit me over the head with a hammer and drag my carcass to bed where I belong.
If you are a kind, loving woman to me, I will treat you like a princess. If you act like you're a princess, I won't talk to you at all.
I will write poetry for you. But never on command.
I will cook for you. But don't demand it.
I will help clean the house. But don't expect me to do it solo unless you're ill.
I am going to deteriorate physically over time. This is called getting old. It doesn't make me feel better about if I catch you drooling over some actor with six pack abs. In return, I promise not to drool over any actress or celebrity.
I will go shopping with you, but you have to put up with me constantly updating the technology in the house.
I will continue to blast my Dark Sanctuary and Cure albums from time to time.
Regards, Ivan
107 posted on 10/07/2005 5:43:54 AM PDT by MadIvan
(You underestimate the power of the Dark Side - http://www.sithorder.com/)