An Open Letter To My Trouser Snake
Friendship? That's not going to do it justice. We're partners. Brothers even, cut from the same cloth and we've been inseparable since the day I was born. We got a bond homie, there's no denying that.
What’s up buddy? Yea, I know, we’ve seen each other as recently as this morning, but I don’t feel like we’ve had a chance to communicate lately.
I know you’re not a fan of talking, and neither am I, really, so I’ll try to keep this straight to the point so we can get on with our lives and find a new female to corrupt and turn into a dirty sex slut.
You and I have issues. We’ve been sweeping shit under the rug for years now but it’s time for me to confront you. I don’t like your lack of self control, I don’t like the way you make me think, and I don’t think you’re approaching our friendship properly.
Friendship? That’s not going to do it justice. We’re partners. Brothers even, cut from the same cloth and we’ve been inseparable since the day I was born. We got a bond homie, there’s no denying that.
Lately I just feel like you’re on a different page than I am, and I’m having a lot of trouble coping. I mean, what the fuck have you done for me lately? This is such a one-sided relationship nowadays, and I’m tired of it. When you’re bored, who goes out and makes sure we find new friends to talk to? That’s right, me. When you thought you were sick, who brought you to the doctor the next day to run every test imaginable? Yep, me again. And when the test results all came back negative, who went out with you to find new friends and celebrate? Exfuckingactly, that was me too.
When you decided to fuck the crazy girls, and enter into their forbidden nether regions (which I’m certain Satan guards), who had to deal with the aftermath and actually TALK to them for you? Who did they end up wanting to stab? I mean shit, these orifices should have had a skull and bones sign tattooed above ‘em and an accompanying quote of “Danger befalls he who enters”…….and still I let you do your thing while I dealt with the backlash ALL BY MYSELF.
I love, protect, and value you…but I don’t think these feelings are reciprocated. I’m starting to think you’re looking at me like less of a friend and more of a host if you will, someone you can stay attached to and leach off of.
Trust me, you’ve NEVER picked up a girl all on your own, and to this day you haven’t even fucking thanked me for all of the warm holes I found you. That’s a real dick move.
I never once talked bad about you, I never insulted you, and I never let you feel unappreciated the way you do me. I mean, I rub your head when you’re happy, when you’re sad, and sometimes even just because I know it feels good for you. That should make you feel pretty fucking valued.
What have you done for me recently? You stained my sheets, you stained my favorite pair of boxers, and when we were out drinking the other night you pissed all over my new jeans. Does this sound like a fair trade to you?
I don’t hate you though. That won’t ever happen bro, we’re just too close. But the fact of the matter is, we can’t go on like this. Things have to change, and the change has to happen soon. I know it won’t all happen overnight, but the time to start is now.
Let’s just work on the littler things first, the one’s that really bother me but can be considered insignificant in the long run. For example, I need you to ONLY pee in toilets, urinals, sinks if needed, or outside. No more urinating on my jeans, in the corner of a public bar, outside of the car window, etc. It was funny when we were 19, 20, 21, maybe even 22. Now, it’s just sad and makes me pity whoever is going to have to clean the fucking mess. I think that should be easy enough to fix, don’t you?
We’ve been through so much together, we both know that we’re linked for life. We saw our first porn together, we saw our first real life vagina together, and we both lost our virginity on the same night. When you hurt, I hurt. But when I hurt, you act like you don’t even know me, and you shrink up and avoid me like a coward.
I need you to act like you give a shit when I suffer, I can’t have a best friend who acts like a stranger in my time of need.
I know you. I know you won’t bring this up when I see you later, but you’ll read it. I’m certain you’ll read it. We don’t have to talk about it, and we can pretend it was never written, but now you know what I NEED from you in this relationship.
I’ll continue to hang out with you, rub your head, give you a massage, take you out, find girls for you, and even help with your grooming. All I ask is for you to show a bit of respect. At the very least, please just stop ruining the inside of my fucking Levi’s. 
