A Letter to my mistress

Though studying should be on the agenda, the truth is the concept of studying has been a pariah for the better part of my college tenor and I'm going to go ahead and say that theme is more prevalent than not. I hold entertainment responsible. It needs to stop being so damn tasty. Its been enveloping me, amusing me, then leaving me for dead come class time. Fuck you I say, fuck you in futility as you continue to please me and tease me with your mere presence. Reality, however, is a different kind of bitch.
Not as much pleasing to the senses as revolting, she only shows herself at the most inopportune moments. Really, how do you expect me not to resist an entire torrented season of the Ultimate Fighter? Do you really think I can resist a show that puts fighters in a house, then has them train with legends and fight each other, one match per respective episode? There is a smaller Badd Blood figure, complete with missing tooth who talks an exorbitant amount of shit, an Athens, Georgia born germophobic nurse Jew, a Hawaiian, Canadian with the maple leaf carved into his very hair line, a poet with an Orleans drawl, and not one but two Brits. I can't stop saying "you know what I mean?" The brits have it right orally. With all of that said, do you really expect to resist that coupled with the WII, PS2, comic shop across the street and shitty weather outside? I know, I know, you're honest, to the point of brutality, but do you really have to wait until the matter is current and active to massage me jubblies with your cold, piercing hands? Would it hurt to give me heed, maybe a kiss on the neck, a lil rub-rub, hell, I'll take a punch if it means you stop with the continuous barrage of facts and figures and for the love of all that is holy, stop revealing pivotal information to me that I should have been aware of at moments past the point of no return. You know that point, I've taken you there many a time, it should be a road map written on your fucking blossoming bosom, but whenever I'm driving, it seems to slip your mind until we reach the destination. Is it that you're jealous? You know my relationship with entertainment. You know our relationship. We're friends with benefits, you said it yourself. You know she's like a drug to me and is essentially inescapable, considering we're living together and her presence can be found all over my apartment, so how do you expect me to properly manage the situation? You're suppose to hook a brother up, still you have yet to actually do that and I can't help but wonder if your envious nature will ruin us. How about we sit these issues aside and finally put the benefits in friends with benefits? I'm sure we can come to some kind of compromise, warm your hands up a bit, maybe ease up on bdsm. I understand, we have to take things one step at a time and that this is a progress, but for the both of us, could you at least try?