PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

I pick Rick....

Monday, Mar. 07, 2005





I love my man. I probably don’t say it enough, show it enough nor could I ever give him enough…but I do love him. These are all the reasons I pick Rick. Oh and he’s hottie too.

Image Hosted by ImageShack.us yes...I pick Rick because....

He lets me listen to rap music in the truck on the way to anywhere we’re going.

 

He put together two bookshelves while sweating profusely so that I could organize my massive collection of books.

 

He sides with my son and tells me to go easy on him, which makes me smile in my soul.

 

He doesn’t get frustrated with me when I get angst ridden or stressed out, he hugs me instead.

 

He lets me put whatever colors in our home that I personally like and or want.

 

He knows how to put a computer together inside and out.

 

He doesn’t laugh too much at me when I ask for the tenth time “Where does this USB cable go again?”

 

He thanks me when I fold his laundry.

 

He buys me lots of bling bling things.I have earrings and rings and necklaces….and….and…

 

He knows how to work the VCR, the DVD player and even how to switch between them.

 

He moved all of our belongings with a hand truck and never once lost his patience with me.

 

He now closes the microwave door after he heats up his coffee for the tenth time instead of walking away leaving it open like he did when we

met.

 

He never leaves the toilet seat up.

 

He lets me have the computer desk.:-)

 

He lets me keep my antique table even though there’s no room for it.

 

He goes to the grocery store with me a lot, and even has gone alone.Either way he always pushes the cart.

 

He kisses the back of my neck when he walks up behind me.

 

He still holds my hand at the movie theater.

 

He always shares the popcorn and doesn’t bitch about how much I paid for it.

 

He never tells me I’m chubby nor does he let me call myself a fat ass on a bad day.

 

He does not call it “fucking”, he does call it “making love”.Every single time!

 

He makes me break away from my “arms length disease” by sometimes making me be the first to make a move.

 

He doesn’t tell me “not to buy anymore books!”

 

He doesn’t care where the couch goes.

 

He knows how to cook the best eggs, biscuits and gravy of anyone I’ve ever met.

 

He changed the brakes on my old car after working all day.

 

He didn’t yell at me for spending too much money when I bought a new something for every room in our new home.

 

He relented and finally doesn’t mind my having an online diary.

 

He doesn’t punch my ex-husband even though I’m sure he has enough reasons to want to.

 

He played ball with my son on the front porch two days ago.

 

He doesn’t give me too hard of a time about my ordering liver and onions in restaurants even though he can’t stand the smell of it.

 

He didn’t laugh at me for falling down in the parking until he knew that I was definitely ok first.

 

He doesn’t tell me what to wear, how to wear my hair or what kind of panties to wear either.

 

He doesn’t bitch much about the fact that I consume the entire closet and his clothes are usually stacked on the floor.

 

He understood and forgave me for things…big things…that other’s still cannot understand…but he does…he does.

 

He takes showers with me and doesn’t leave me in the back of the shower in the cold.

 

He always kisses me goodbye, hello and anytime he comes into a room after a long time away.

 

He lets our doggie sleep in the bed curled up between us, and only gets tiffed at her when she put’s her puss in his face.

 

He put together a bathroom organizer right after I brought it into the apartment.

 

He doesn’t care how many CD’s I own.

 

He lets me watch reality TV and only asks for the remote on FOOTBALL Sunday.

 

He asks me if I’ve done my homework yet and urges me to stay on top of things school wise.

 

He’s financially more responsible than I am.

 

He doesn’t ever tell me what to eat, how much to eat, how little to eat, and he never frowns when I order dessert.

 

He has tons of patience with my son, my ex, and my aggravations over or

because of both.

 

He has never been anything but cordial to my ex when he arrives to pick up my son.

 

He trims his moustache when I ask him to.

 

He puts up with my stubbly legs when I’m too tired or too lazy to shave ‘em right away.

 

He never takes my pillow. (The one I must have in order to fall asleep.)


He wears whatever I buy for him, he never complains or says he doesn’t like anything I give him.

 

He has a very cute butt and lets me talk about as much as I want to anyone that I feel like.

 

He knows how to clean a bathroom and a refrigerator.

 

He doesn’t complain too much about how little I cook dinner.

 

He encourages me to keep memento’s, be they family or otherwise.

 

He has a statue of Jesus that looks like its wearing lipstick, it was his great grandfathers.

 

He now smokes outside at my request.

 

He’s a kid at heart that plays Diablo… “I cannot carry anymore…”

 

He loves cheese on his cheese and on everything else too.

 

He goes to work every single day and never ever goes in late.

 

He loves coffee as much as I do and now has an addiction to Mocha’s because of me.

 

He watched Fight Club just because I made him.

 

He let me put big bright daisies all over the bathroom and didn’t even flinch or bring up the fact that they are pink and purple and orange girly colors.

 

He always smells sexy even though he doesn't always wear cologne.

 

He always kisses me goodnight.

 

He always says “I love you” at the end of every telephone conversation.

 

He found a flashlight and he helped me find my way out of a very dark dark place….the night we met.

3:47 p.m. ::
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