I know that Simon loves to player hate on you. I know that he likes to snore when you sing. That’s OK honey. I’m a writer now, but I used to be an assistant pimp, so I can have him silenced (if you know what I mean), just say the word. I know that Hawaii loves you so much, although I am baffled that the lieutenant governor would name a day after you, when there are hard working nurses and teachers that are underpaid. I ain’t hating though. I still think you’re red hot.
Oh. When you cry Jasmine, I want to hold you in my arms and comfort you. Just no tear stains on my 25 year old (with holes), 99-cent, second hand Target t-shirt. It’s the bomb. Jasmine, I have a question to ask you. Why do Hawaiian women have small ba-donkitty-donks? I can live with that, but my eyes might stray every now and then. Just don’t hate when I do. Worse still, don’t cry.
Anyway, I’d love you to sing me to sleep over the phone. Simon might hate on you, but I won’t. I think you’re a great singer. Just steady a little on the tones sweetheart.
I don’t get jealous, but if I see you looking at another guy, I’ll ask Simon to give you the verbal equivalent of a “pimp slap”.
See you later babes,