Something Nice For You: You’re the…

Dear xxxxxx,

In the wake of yyyyyy, and in lieu of any words that could possibly explain why such a zzzzzz could ever happen to someone as [redacted] as you, I’ve decided to try to construct for you something nice. Something nice for you. Something, ideally, nice enough to balance out all the shit life has heaped on you in the past xyzxyz.

I made this for you (you! –yes, you!).
I hope it will make you feel better about, well, yyyyyy.

True Affection,1
abcab a bcabcab


You’re the…

Mediterranean to my Baltic Avenue2
Seven to my Eleven
cheese to my peas & dogs
chim to my panzee
snails in my escargot
beef ankle in my mispronounced pho
brown in my bread
drank in my grape
grape in my ape3
broken bits of cork in my botched bottle of wine
whiskey to my ginger
whiskey to my Fresca
whiskey to my more whiskey
whiskey to my Sidral Mundet

Seriously, whiskey plus this. You're welcome.

bass in my clef
cleft in my chin
Chin in my Chinese phonebook4
Top to my Pops
meth to my Cops
Colonel Leslie to my “Hap” Hapablap
Card to my amom5
Triscuit to my Wheat Thin6
Plaster to my Paris
Chip to my pendale
Cardinals in my Glendale
Extra point to my touchdown
Travis to my Touchdown
traves to my ty
Travis to my Bickle
Butter to my Brickle
Kosher Dill to my Pickle
buffalo on my nickel

Look-- they're about to kiss! *swoon*

You’re the attentive tongue to my nipple
the still water to my ripple
right-center gap to my triple
titular Creek to my Cripple
Semper to my fi
pig to my sty
molten fruit to my pie
truth in my lie7
crab in my cake
clam in my bake
fluid in my brake
Jonathan to my Frakes8
thus,zarathustra to my spake
cheese to my quake

Much ❤ for the suburbs

Sonny to my Mary Whitaker
belt to my chastity
sarcasm in my response
De Leon to my Juan Ponce
guy who actually did circumnavigate the globe without dying to my Magellan
time to my travel
Time to my To Kill, A9
monster under my bed
Monster to my R.E.M.10

Cat on my Hot Tin Roof
Baby in my Ruth
square to my root
passion in my fruit
lap to my gently-rest head
Maps to my all-consuming dread11
frappe to my lets call it a cabinet instead12
B.A.P.S. to my how isn’t Halle Berry’s career dead?

Hope you've finished all your B.A.P.S. to School shopping!

Ma$e to my Puffy Combs
humus to my loam
stacks of old newspapers to my dying alone
stacks of dead Waziris to my unmanned drone
head on my stout
sauer to my kraut
tuppence to my bag
Ku Klux to my Klan13
wing to my span
Khlav to my kalash
Stampede to my Vash
Captain Picard in my Vash14
vas to my deferens
Parent to my Teacher conference

Are these things more a nightmare for the teacher or the parents? Answers pls

size of the fight in my dog
Magnolia to my frogs
Boogie in my Nights
run in my tights
Dancer in my ska band
“Yeeeah” to my hype-man
raisins in my scone
writing to my drinking alone
“Glycerine” to my Sixteen Stone
Ben Riley to my Spider-Clone
tater in my tots
grit in my snots
X on my spot
story to my plot
vocoder to my tracheotomy
nose to my lobotomy
stem in my cherry
straw to my berry
Chuck to my Berry
dingle to my dangle15
panic in my attack
jacket to my flack
cocaine in my crack
jacket again to my track
fuck to my frak
Click in my Clack16

Yeah Clack, drill that mouth!

You’re the fork to my tine,
you’re the sea to my brine,
the Kevin to my Kline,
Poison Ivy: Calamine.17

2. We’re piss poor but a monopoly nonetheless
4. So much less without you
5. Spicy Italian-o mother’s-a-day
6. In this one we’re enemies, but the fun kind
7. You’re the Jamie Lee Curtis stripping to my I enjoyed Jamie Lee Curtis Stripping
9. That one’s on the house; that one doesn’t count
10. Seriously underrated, the last good thing they ever did (speaking of which, Washing Machine)
11. So many places I’ll never go, so many lives over whom I have no control; so many singers offering to love you like I don’t love you.
12. Frappes, or cabinets, are what old New Englanders who are dead now called milkshakes theoretically. Also: vinegar on your fries. It’s good! Try it!!
13. I don’t support it, I just recognize that it would be nothing without that memorable name
15. I mean, J– jingle to my jangle: like spurs is the thing. David Robinson and Tim Duncan, just attached to boots. Loving it. Somebody draw this.
16. They did say they were Tap It brothers…


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