Please, for the love of God and Ghandi, stop expecting me to agree with your archaic belief that a woman is placed on this earth to service your every need.
When you confess to me how disappointed you are in my sister for not providing you with a meal, on the table, every evening, just like your mom did for your dad..I am not agreeing with you when I don’t reply..that is me saving your life because I am currently locking my entire body down in an attempt not to beat you with your own arm.
You are aware that at the age of Fifty it is slightly pathetic that you have no idea how to cook yourself a meal right?
Oh, and my sister didn’t appreciate the Christmas gift that you gave her with the words “Now will you give me a blow job ?” attached to it like a balloon…wow, romantic.
Also, please stop staring at my breasts. They are starting to feel uncomfortable with this level of popularity.