The House of Testicular Complaints

I like my job. My current job. The one that involves little work. But nothing lasts forever, even me, so what's to be said and done? I haven't the slightest idea, which is why I'm here (with you).

People been talkin' 'bout weddings. That's great, and I'm happy for you. Really. When was the last time you did something for me? My memory's been a bit lazy as of late, clouded by that whole 'I'll be unemployed soon with no plan for the future but you're getting married and want to borrow money from me' thing. Still, what have you done for me lately? Take your time.

Thanks for treating me to lunch on Sunday. That was awesome, at least in my imagination. Your suggestion was spot on, it's just too bad you couldn't roll your ass out of bed early enough to actually live up to the promise made. Thanks for the beer, too, all four bottles of it. Must have set you back roughly 12,000 won. Ouch. Hey, next time you're on the peninsula and want to spend in excess of twenty hours sorting through the assload of shit you asked me to safeguard for seven months, just buy me a Snickers bar and we'll call it even, as long as you can refrain from eating the goddamn thing yourself.

How's the new job going at the hospital? Working in the ER must be terribly stressful as well as time consuming. I know how busy you are, what with the new job, lengthy commute, nightly (daily?) excursions to pubs, etc. It's tough being at the top, right? I know. I've been there. And yet, one shouldn't throw the phrase I'm busy (or some variant of said phrase) around haphazardly, because in reality, you're about as busy as my dick on a Saturday night.

Weddings again. Fantastic. I wish you the best of luck. Cutting it a bit close though, aren't you? I mean, you're getting older now, and I remember way back when you said that marriage by a certain age would be mandatory, and here we are, at the end of an era (in more ways than one). Congratulations. Could you do me one small favor? If you have any children, please don't let them end up like you. Don't get me wrong; as I think you're pretty cool. It's the people around your children that I'm concerned about.

I'm glad we had lunch the day before three weeks ago. Curried pork cutlet never tasted so sweet. Well, it wasn't sweet, but then again, neither are you, and what's a not-so-small lie between folks that shall never be friends? But I still kinda like you, the same way I like curried pork cutlets: sliced up and in my mouth. Let's do this again sometime soon, yeah?

See you around.