Why I should be burned in effigy, and what I plan to do about it.

2002-07-15 - 6:17 a.m.

So, for the viewers who joined us after the break:

The Magus, in an astounding display of callousness and insensitivity, procrastinated away Pookie's birthday.

The Magus, in actuality, only wished Pookie a Happy Birthday only once, and that was on voicemail.

The Magus is a lout. You all know how much I hate exaggerating, but I think I've just trumped almost anything I ever complained about him doing to me. It may have been kinder of me to just bash his fingers in a door a million times or something.

The problem:

Is not what he suspects or fears, that is that I'm unhapopy with him and want out of our relationship.

It is that I so completely took him for granted. He is the man that I plan to spend the rest of my life with, and I took him for granted. He was like the fridge or the stove or the couch. They're useful to have around, and I certainly bear them no animosity, and the couch even garners some affection on days when I've been on my feet too long.

He is not allowed to become an appliance.

So, the extensively lame-ass plan is to go overboard. I wantg him to come home to balloons, and streamers, and presents, and cake with 35 candles atop it.

Written down like that, it seems even more lame-ass.

Cheers,

The Magus

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