Raise the Red Lantern

I'm such a whore.

You do me wrong. You hurt me. Everyone says you're not worth it, that you're no good for me, that I can do so much better. Maybe they're right sometimes, but they don't know the side of you that I do. They don't know how wonderful you are underneath it all.

I do wish you would treat me better sometimes, but it's just the way you are

My one,
my only,

Hardees

I remember how it all started. I was listening to the radio driving home from work a while back when I heard an ad for this new thing you'd come up with -- The Philly Cheesesteak Thickburger. Basically it's a huge greasy hamburger that someone decided to dump a huge greasy cheesesteak sandwich on top of. Just the sound of it was appalling. I even remember talking to someone about just how ridiculous and potentially dangerous something like this could be, and how Hardees had finally crossed the line.

Two days later, I was eating one.

and it
was
heaven

I knew it was bad for me. I knew there were better places to be spending my time. But I couldn't help myself. Something inside me loved it. Needed it.

But since then it seems like the relationship has changed. It's like you don't appreciate me. I'm all for experimentation and living on the edge, but there's just something unnatural about putting cheddar cheese sauce and jalapeno peppers on a hamburger. And why is it that we always have what you want? Why is it that we only do the things you want to do? I work hard -- how about treating me to a nice dinner once in a while?

But it's always the same -- I have to wait in line behind all the others just to get some time with you, and than all you want to do is super size. After we spend time together, I always seem to be missing a few dollars. Then the next day when I'm repeatedly going to the bathroom, people ask me what's wrong and I have to tell them that I ..fell down the stairs or something.

It's so embarrassing, and you don't even care.

I feel like it's going to get to the point where I'm going to lose myself. Forget who I was, or what I wanted when I first started this crazy ride. Like at some point you're going to want to do things that are far beyond the sense of decency, and we're going to end up having one of those arguments:

"Come on baby, you'll like it"
"No, I just don't think I can.."
"What's the problem?"
"It's my upbringing - Mother told me good people don't do things like this."
"What your mama don't know won't hurt her"
"But it's three slices of cheese!"
(angry)"I thought you loved me"
"I do, but.."
"If you love someone, you should do things to make them happy, right?"
"I suppose so.."
"That's what I do for you -- didn't I give you curly fries that one time?"
(embarrassed) "Yes.. Yes, you did"
"And don't you love my curly fries?"
"I do love your curly fries"
"Then you should do this for me -- it will make me happy"
"Oh, I don't know"
"..Come on baby"

"Well Ok, maybe just this once -- but I want the lights off!"

Where's my Julia Roberts movie? Where's my Beyonce song? Who's gonna be there for me later on this afternoon when I'm hunched over the toilet crying alone while he's off making another bikini commercial with that tramp Paris Hilton?

My friends are right -- this has to stop. But they don't know what you're like. They don't know just how hard it is to stay away.

I wish I knew how to quit you

[Listening to: 18 Visions, "Victim"]