I’ve shut off. I know you think if you break enough dishes and throw enough glasses at me that I’ll listen to you. But I’ve shut off. You know I hate your foul mouth, so you ratchet it up a notch. I wonder how we ever began. I realize I must have some psychosis that attracted you to me. I reach the bedroom and lock the door. I’m glad we have a master bedroom. Now you’ve triggered the fire alarm. This isn’t worth the rest of the lease.
