So, I was gonna fill you in on Rome and further Ibiza antics but today, I'd like to discuss boyfriends, specifically why they suck. I'm usually opposed to dividing the sexes along enemy lines but today, I'm throwing in the towel. Why doesn't my man understand me?!
It's been ages since he's done anything romantic for me. In the early days of our courtship I was wooed with love letters, massages and meat. I'm not speaking euphemistically here- he actually brought a fillet steak along to one of my uni lectures. I think he'd intended on using it as a prop to proclaim his love for me. "Man needs meat, meat is passion, you are meat, I eat meat..." (I subsequently discovered the "best butcher in Dublin" from which he acquired the steak, was next door to his favourite watering hole).
Anyway, now that we live together, it's the occasional bunch of flowers and a pat on the backside when I've made the effort to wear matching underwear. On the way home from breakfast this morning, I decided to stop speaking to him until he rectifies the situation. He claimed to be completely ignorant of what was bothering me and didn't really seem to care whether I was talking to him or not. So I chucked a cup of green tea over a nearby bush (I have a girl's aim) and ran off, cursing his existence. I didn't realise there was a gardener trimming said bush from the other side who, whilst mopping his tea-stained brow, told the boyfriend I was high-maintenance.
So here I am, all alone on a Saturday afternoon, insulted by a gardener and likely to be charged with GBH. All because my boyfriend is a moron who is unable to anticipate my needs. High maintenance indeed. Humph.
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