Seriously, I’m an expert. The authority on all things Your Body.
I don’t earn anything for this, though.
Not a gold star sticker or an Associate’s Degree from one of those strip mall colleges that immigrants and former addicts go to.
Still, to me, this extensive and exhaustive knowledge has certain perks.
I’m privy to the fact that you HATE your hip tattoos.
I won an “I love you” when I blew a raspberry on your belly for the first time.
I get a low moan from your chest when I bite the tip of your left ear.
I know that I can slap your back-fat and you’ll swing at me — like fully bar-fight swing at me — whether we’re at my cousin’s birthday party or not.
But I’m proud to know what I know.
And best of all, I’m the only person in the world right now that has full access to the source material.
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