The orange and yellow fishes we bought at the same time we bought you died about 3 weeks after purchase. That was about how long I was really interested in having any of you.
H was the one who begged for all of you. She did extra chores for a month to get you. She named your yellow and orange companions Alfalfa and something else, I can't remember, but she had already completely lost interest by the time you got your name. Your name was LeTour for the first 3 weeks we had you, and then when Alberto Contador won, you became Alli, even though we all wanted you to be Lance. But that's not why I don't love you.
I don't love you because you shit in the water, and it drifts down into the neon colored rocks, and eventually the water becomes murky and stinky, and I have to fish you out of the muck and put you in a sandwich bag while I clean your stinky shit out of your pretty rocks. And your stink water invariably splashes onto clean dishes on the other side of the sink, and then I have a moral dilemma about whether I should reclean those dishes or just hope B and H end up eating out of them.
I don't love you because I feel guilty when I realize I haven't fed you for two days, and when I do feed you, the food smells disgusting. And I don't love you because I feel guilty when I realize you've been swimming in your own filth for your whole sad, sick existence. And I don't love you because you won't die and I can't flush you alive.
Red Neon (I've never really thought of you as Alli), I'm just not that into you. Please die.
Queef with faces.
17 hours ago