You know I would do anything for you. That's why I'm going to attempt to not drink as many Monster drinks nor eat as much cauliflower, in preparation for the day or evening when you prove your feelings for me by chugging a cup of my very own lemonade.
I know recently we've had our problems. And again, I want to say how I didn't know that girl was sixteen, nor did I know we just happened to be in your backyard. But I would say that coming off that meth-binge when you said you'd never speak to me again more than proved my love for you. It wasn't pretty. Trust me. I would've much rather drank a cup of my own urine than having the shits, throwing up and hallucinating about fucking Yogi Bear and having my step-mom be there to clean it all up.
If you want, I can drop some science on you so you feel better about doing it. There's some dudes that piss on their hands before baseball games so they don't have to wear gloves. And in some cultures, the drinking of ones urine is like taking a blood oath. Just be glad I'm not asking you to drink my blood, because that'd be gross.
I will also make myself available to drink a cup of your urine. I will do it. Remember that time you had your period and I had to go to the bathroom after you and I saw your tampon in the trash? That's almost as bad, nay, worse, than drinking urine. So it looks like you owe me one and since I don't menstruate, this is the only option.
By the way, I won't be kissing you on the mouth for at least 48 hours after the drinking of said urine, but I will be at Wal-Mart, picking up a dvd copy of "Sisterhood of the Traveling Whatevers" because I remember you saying you liked it.
