Sometimes they get it right. Those people who write lyrics and compose melodies. Sometimes they’re able to create something that express my own feelings and emotions better than I would ever be able too.
Case in point.
Besides the brilliant country vibe and great performances, the words of this song is EXACTLY how I feel about the wife. (I know I should get a life.)
But if something is this true, it is what it is. Like Miley Cyrus being a whore.
It’s common knowledge that men need help. We might not have the ability to express our gut wrenching emotion in conversation, but some men can write it down. And then other men steal those written words and re-cycle it.
Since the dawn of time men has never been perfectly normal. And the reason for that is that in the beginning our Creator took one of our ribs, formed another human, but then gave them boobs. And boobs are directly linked to our rational thought. We do what the Boob say we do. We act to please the Boob. The Boob is king. And men love the king.
So getting my rib back, and finding my perfect Boob, implies that I’m only whole when she’s around. The relationship became a lot more than what I initially expected. It’s more proof that one and one really does account for a lot more than two.
And that is why she’s my medicine. A concoction of Prozac, Ritalin, Pain pills, Penicillin, Antihistamines, Antibiotics, Anti-virals, Vitamins, Stimulants, Depressants, Anti-depressants and all kinds of other inflammatory medication. I confess: My wife is my addiction. A fix that keeps me higher than a kite. One that keeps me strong. That somehow enhances me. Inspire me.
Doesn’t matter If I’m up or down, happy or sad, pissed off or frustrated. It works. Every. Single. Time. For anything. Name it. It’s just what the doctor ordered. And like Shakira and Blake is belting out in this song, I don’t need anything else.
Plus, I get the Boob without prescription. I just need to behave, Baby.