Me: Adrian, can you go get me a coke?
Adrian: Yeah, no problem.
(brings me a coke)
Adrian (as he’s leaving the room): Love me, love me, say that you love me…
Adrian (husband) is being a huge fuckwad lately. He’s perpetrating psychological warfare.
Me: Hey Adrian, while you’re at the bank, can you get some 10’s?
Adrian: Yeah, no problem. I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free.
Me: I HATE YOUR FACE.
He speaks only certain lines of certain songs that get stuck in my head all day.
Me: Do you want to watch America’s Got Talent?
Adrian: In a minute. *hums John Phillips Sousa*
Me: You sleep on the couch.
He does it simply because he knows they piss me the hell off, and I’ll spend all day brewing about how much that one song makes me want to light children aflame, until I finally start singing it in my head and kind of enjoying it, in which he’ll promptly switch to a new one.
Me: *humming* One, like a dream come true, two, just want to be with you…
Adrian: And I said, HEYY AYYY AYYY AY AY, HEYYYY AY AY, I SAID HEY, WHAT’S GOING ON.
FUCK YOU, ADRIAN.
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