Drunk White Boy I Heart You

Drunk white boy,
I heart you.

Let me count the ways!

Kick start jump and you’re up
hand standing on a grey keg with
beer foaming at your mouth,
you tiger you
you wild thing you.
Marley shirt fallen at your neck,
your balsa wood chest flashing flabby,
just the kind of man I look for
these long, lonesome nights.

So you wanna take
long walks on the sidewalk,
kiss my ground with your leinenkugel,
drape an easy arm over my shoulder
like a hit single.
And baby I’m amazed by you.
Do that hop onto every parked car thing again.

Keep drinkin, I’m swimmin, and you’re so deep.
Maybe General Vang Pao did invent sriracha sauce.
Yah I get it, I got the fever.
You loved Korea because you slept with so many Korean girls?
I love Korea too!
We have so much in common.

YES, I text back.
Let’s definitely get married.

Oh, drunk white boy,
where you been all my life?
No one can say hello to me in 3 Asian languages like you can.
No one calls me Ming like you can.
No one tells the boy I came with about the baseball bats in the trunk like you do.
Your penis is so much bigger. I know it.

Across your dank and dirty basement,
I only have folded eyes
for you.

Cheers.