No, it’s not your fault, beach bum.

Nothing ever is.

It’s not your fault that you were raised in Southern California

And everyone knows that people in Southern California

Are shady and fake and so you’re shady and fake because

You were born there.

The world is reversed you say- so

No, it’s not your fault, beach bum

That you refuse to get a regular nine to five like

The rest of us because your mother who has

Faithfully paid your survival bills for the past 35 years

Won’t seem to stop doing that and kick your ass

Out of the nest.

The cowboy in the white hat is the real bad guy.

It’s not your fault that everyone in your family

Considers you the black sheep because you appear to them

To be lazy, selfish, unappreciative, mean and unambitious

When really you are just so far ahead of all the rest of us

You have no desires and nothing to chase except me.

No it’s not your fault that when I met you, you lied

To me about your name, and where you lived and how much

Money you made because that’s what Southern Californian

Leech/beach bums have to do to protect themselves from hard working

Midwesterners who move to the West Coast looking for love.

The government is the real bad guy.

It’s not your fault that you want to move from your mom’s couch

To Monique’s couch but Monique said no so you opted to move to mine.

And it’s not your fault that you call me a bitch and fat and stupid

Whenever I won’t let you have your way or won’t let you control me because

That was how you were raised. Those words are affection where you’re from.

Traditional marriage is the bad guy.

It’s not your fault that no one will just accept you as you are

A self-absorbed, crappy, philosophical piece of shit.

The aliens, the aliens from outer space, they are the real bad guys.

It’s my fault.

It’s my fault for not believing that every lie you ever told me was to

Protect me.

It’s my fault for letting you stay on my couch when I clearly knew

You would come up with every excuse not to leave.

It’s my fault for giving you a chance you when you gave me absolutely

No reason to.

It’s my fault for growing up with so many rules about what a man is and

What a man does and having so many high expectations dictated to me

By other successful people in long term relationships instead of

Following my own heart.

Jesus Christ is the real bad guy, you say.

It’s my fucking fault that you have nowhere to stay now because your

Mom says you get on her nerves and Monique says she has a kid and

Don’t need another and I say I don’t love you anymore.

Fine.

The sun won’t rise tomorrow because of me.

You really just want another chance to explain.

You really want to just start over after nearly 7 years and be someone else.

A little less asshole. A little less beach bum.

Cause you say people don’t change but somehow, miraculously, you will.

You were thinking about getting a job, you really were.

And according to you, I’m too old to do any better.

And according to you, I’m no angel either.

Fine.

I’m the dark lord Hades and I cursed you with my pussy.

It’s not your fault that you’re addicted, beach bum.

Nothing ever is.

So-you fucking big baby, you overgrown little boy

I will take the blame.

I will absorb it all.

And I will walk away from you, beach bum

With my head held high

Because apparently the world IS reversed.

Because apparently I’m the cowboy in the white hat.

Apparently I’m an agent of the secret government Overlord Team run by Jesus Christ.

Apparently I believe in archaic marriage rites and men who are leaders and I am from outer space.

I am the real bad guy.

No, it’s not your fault, beach bum.

Nothing ever is.