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Me: (Singing to myself): …waiting for your bre-heath, come sweet death, one last caress…(grunt) HUAH!
#1 GF: Oh that sounded nice, and you had to ruin it with the grunt.
Me: Well, not really. The lyrics before it are: “I got something to saaaay. I killed your baby today…”
#1 GF: Aw
Me: …And it doesn’t matter much to me as long as it’s dead…
#1 GF: Aw, no.
Me: Sweet, lovely death, I’m waiting for your bre-heath. Come sweet death one last caress…HUAH!
#1 GF: That’s just wrong.
Me: You know, if people based their decision on my angry face and my music, they’d have no idea what a nice guy I really am. I’m just so misunderstood.
#1 GF: I’m going to dry my hair.
Note: Before I let the #1 GF read this post, I put on both the Misfits and the Metallica versions of “Last Caress” (in a row) to theme her reading.
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