One Step Ahead

Not to brag, but I always knew it wasn’t butter.  I had this deep belief that it was not butter.  That’s just the kind of guy I am, I guess.  When I was told to “Just Do It,” the joke was on them — I already was doing it.  I had been “just doing it” for years.  I knew what every kiss began with.  I never needed to be told that.  I knew that she was born with “it” — well, maybe she was.

I was obeying my thirst before I heard I was supposed to.  I’m the kind of guy who innately knows to obey thirst.  I knew when it came to picker-uppers, which one was the “quicker” of the bunch.  I knew it was made for a woman, even though it was strong enough for me, a man.  That’s just how these things work.  Sure, sometimes I felt like a nut, but sometimes I most certainly did not.  I lived in the moment.  I never bet that I couldn’t eat just one.  I knew the horrible odds of placing this bet.  I knew what the best part of waking up was without being told.  I’ve “thought” outside of numerous “buns.”

I won’t even tell you what I did for that damn bar, but it was never about the bar!  Not to gloat, but I always knew I was in good hands and I knew it would keep going and going and going.  And while it did melt in my mouth quite often, it did, in fact, also melt in my hands.  And I never, EVER, left home without it.  No one needed to tell me.  I am the best a man can get.  Because I’m worth it.  Like a rock.

Honestly, I always knew where the beef was.  It was right here all along.

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