The people I live with are such absolute cretins. To celebrate my second-year anniversary with her at the beginning of the month, HE brought home a piece of chocolate mousse cake (I’m surprised he didn’t chuckle and call it chocolate mouse cake), SHE jammed two candles in its center, lit them, turned out the kitchen light, and then the two of them lamely sang “Happy Annmewversary” to me, laughingly alternating their own voices for those of me and the dog. And then she ate some of the cake, and saved the rest for the next day, when she scraped off the frosting with her finger and licked it like the drooling dog she is.

So what do I get out of all of this? Well, every morning I get to see her naked. And every morning all I can think as I stare up at her is, So that’s the thing people name after me? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

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