Hey babe, I just kinda noticed all the stuff of mine that was strewn around here the last few weeks is sitting in the garbage, including that whole second half of a pizza from breakfast and those Steve Winwood records I blast when I’m working on my huge paper mache dragon, which I saw in the fireplace, and I was wondering, like, is that really necessary?

I just feel like I remember we were having an argument yesterday, where did that end up? Remember? You were yelling at me about something while I was in the middle of dabbing through a spoonful of that Lemondrop Kush rosin. Remember, the stuff I got from that store next to where we got those jalapeño cheeseburgers, the ones where they put the umbrellas on the strawberry smoothies and the floor was, like, slanted in the corner at, like a 30 degree angle? And they had the free balloons.

Oh, hey, did you have to tell your mother that I forgot her first name? 

Just kinda feel like I’m getting the shaft. And I don’t know why. Like, why did you have to throw out both my T-Bell and McDonalds eatin’ jerseys? You know I love eatin’ my burritos and french fries in those things, that’s the best part about Friday nights! And then there’s my crabs! I know we’d talked about me getting rid of my huge aquarium full of ‘em, but we never really came to a conclusion and I’m just, like, a little mad about you throwing them all in the river. When I was out bowling.

Did you really have to go and wash my unwashable sweater, knowing full well it would crumble into a million pieces? Now we have to get new appliances ‘cause that thing just shredded! And uh, there was that one time that you mentioned my unmentionables to the waiter, explaining exactly where my hernia is and what it looks like? For all the other restaurant people to hear? You didn’t even tell ‘em I got it from standing in line for a whole day and a half for that PS4 game. What was that game again? Oh, man, I smell those onion rings from down the hall. Smell that?

Did we really have to setup a sound-proof room for me to play the drums, just because I forgot how to play em? I stopped jack-hammering the glockenspiel during my drum solos like you asked. I gotta admit, that alone has shortened my typical jam session by at least twenty minutes. I thought you loved it when ol’ Bruiser starts barking along and gets all the neighbor dogs riled up! And you, like, plunged a whole cinder block into my bass drum that one time I had to practice for that Dream Theater cover band audition on the same night you were studying for your final. Did you really need to like, break my drum?

Also, where did we land on cleaning out the freezer? I know I’ve been saying I’d do it for a couple weeks, or maybe months, or whatever, but did you have to empty the whole thing just because it was packed with pizza rolls? You didn’t even give me fair warning. Oh yea, besides that text and the note on the fridge. Besides that, you didn’t even give me fair warning, right?   

Don’t we have to, like, pay for garbage? Do they send us bills? How can you throw out this much stuff without having to pay them like, fifty bucks? I won’t have anything coming in for a couple weeks, maybe we can hold off on trashing stuff? Like, did you really have to toss my whole collection of burnt candles? I’ve been meaning to use them in the blacklight room. And speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to take some of our vacay cash and rebuild the blacklight room since it mostly burned down. That ok?