The meanest thing that
Anyone ever said to
Me was “I love you.”
I’m dancing with your
Girlfriend, and there is not a
Damn thing you can do
Roses vary in colours ranging from white through yellows and reds.
Violets vary in the genus, ranging from violet, through various shades of blue, yellow, white, and cream, whilst some types are bicolored, often blue and yellow.
Wikipedia is great.
I’m still single.
Love is just a word
That someone invented so
They could stop trying
Me and my father have had a bit of an odd relationship over the years. There’s been numerous reasons for it, which I’m not going to list here, and blame lies on both sides. However, over the last year or so we’ve both been making more of an effort to build bridges over all the bad blood which has flowed in the past.
And honestly, things are pretty awesome at the moment. Yesterday I did something which, had you asked about two years ago, I’d have categorically said “That will never happen” – I sat with my dad and watched the F.A. Cup Final.
I despise football (that’s soccer to all you merkins), and I always have. I hate the showboating of the players. I don’t understand the rules. I find it boring. I don’t understand the attraction. I just find it boring. My dad loves football. He also hates the showboating. He understands the rules because he used to play semi-professionally. Obviously he doesn’t find it boring.
So we had the hatred of showboating in common. But then I realised there was something more. The two teams playing were Arsenal and Hull City. Hull city were absolute underdogs, and Arsenal are supposedly one of the best teams in the country. My dad is a Tottenham Hotspur (“Spurs”) supporter, so naturally hates Arsenal (“The Gunners”) – Spurs and The Gunners are rival London teams, see. I have a natural penchant for always rooting for the underdog, and so we had a second common point of interest.
So imagine our elation when mere minutes into the game, Hull City smashed one into the back of the net. A few minutes later they sent another one in. We were less than ten minutes into the game and “our” team was already 2-0 up. Of course, dad and I were cheering and discussing what the Gunners were doing wrong. I went along with Dad’s suggestions, as I had no real clue about what ANYONE was doing, right or wrong.
The game went into extra time, due to Arsenal gradually clawing back to equalise over the remaining 80 minutes of the game. It looked as if the match would go on to penalties, but Arsenal managed to knock another one in late into the second half of extra time, and that was that. Still, Hull gave them a run for their money.
Dad and I caught up on bits and bobs, and then he showed me a bunch of books which he had found which I might be interested in. Including some cold war thrillers, some books I vaguely remember from my childhood, and some German school books which he originally learned from. He then gave me a lift home.
All in all, it was probably the best Saturday I’ve had in a long time. Thanks Dad.
You see, the problem
With soul-mates is that, in truth,
They do not exist