In all my life,
of all the things to say,

I really can’t say it
any other way,

than,
“I’m not here” —

but just to make it
perfectly clear:

If you show up
at my house
on my day off,

with your husband,

and I’m sure
he’s a great guy...

yeah, I’d like
to meet him,

but where was I?

Oh yeah! —

at my house,
with your husband,

on my day off
and unexpectedly,

and you want me
to make you both
a strong ass coffee?

Yeah, I’m sorry,

but I’m not here
for your treats,

and I’m sure
you can probably

sit somewhere
down the street,

much more comfortably,

with the bourgeois.

Yeah, go ahead,

put it in the book.

Eat a dick, bitch.
Eat a dick, bitch.
Eat a dick, bitch.

And I know
you do.

Good for the two of you.