[some things just run past their sell-by] date

I once so wanted a date with your mother.

And then that fell by the wayside.

She basically told me – educatedly, of course – to piss off; to never contact again.

And so then you and I, we met for dinner; and that was when I had – I experienced so full on! – the best evening of my life, bar none; better, even, than any with your ma.

And that life of mine changed in such radical ways, I simply can’t express my gratitude to you enough.

But now all your bad stuff and gaming is messing about with this thing – this thing of such grand beauty – beyond all good reason; beyond any rhyme left me.

And so now it’s too late; our date also is run its dispiriting ending; its obvious sell-by.

How bad was that, then, when it could’ve been such fun.

How important to you is this competition you prize.

How wonderful for me, on the other dearest hand, is the collaboration you always clearly disdained.

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