My ode to Fred

Oh Fred. Where are you

We have been looking for you for hours

Through drunken crowds and cold streets

We have been hunting for days

We even found Wally. He was hiding from Chuck Norris

I leapt across the market tables looking for you

And we wore our best dresses

For you Fred

We even contemplated look alikes and homeless people

Shelley has been getting impatient

So I write this ode to you to thank you

For the banging sounds on my ceiling

The note on her door

The annoying and terrible friend of yours who needs to talk to a therapist about his

Cuddling fetish

And probably it’s your fault she broke my little pink bracelet

(She WILL buy me a new one)

Thanks Fred

You’re a real goode’n

p.s. come back, shut Shelley up.