the report was what i thought it would be like

it said im a nightmare to live with.

it showed a long list of girlfriends ive had or quasi gfs or loves or lusts or flings or things or or or

and it said that with each and every one of them i was the prime example of bait n switch

pretty on the outside, ugly closeup.

im a slob, i fart, i wear the same things over and over and over. i pass out unexpectedly, even though no drugs or alcohol are around.

i cant cook, clean, im not well read, i grammar bad and for some reason im as demanding as can be

but worse, i pretend that the poor women learn the ancient skill of mindreading.

even though i am not one to live up to many promises, i insist that they keep theirs.

even though i constantly change my mind about things, i steam when they call audibles.

theres baseball cards in here, photos of others, letters from others, gifts from others

how is anyone supposed to feel special in this bachelors pad of boobie traps?

white socks everywhere and smells smells smells

closets packed with nick nacks, freezer stuffed with cheese.

the xbi insists that no agent should have a significant other but mama mia how is this the only rule i dont break?

and then theres the cubs.

and the weird hours.

and the secret trips to the hidden lair.

it just aint fair.