I think you're funny when you crinkle your nose into a tiny wrinkled flesh button, roll down the window and ask, "Did you fart?"
I think you're funny when you scrunch your adorable face, squint those beautiful eyes, ball your hands into tiny fists, beat the neighbor's dog to death and then yell at me for previously loaning that same neighbor our shovel, as if I knew which animal you would kill that day, you unpredictable beauty.
I think you're funny when you tell the checkout girl at the grocery mart that she has two choices: accept the coupon or inspect the inside of a shallow grave. I love meeting store managers too.
I think you're funny when you smile, lick your lips and tell me that if we don't make love right now, you will find the nearest homeless man and fuck him into a coma. As if I could ever say no to you.
I think you're funny when you come home from work, upset and preoccupied, pour yourself a cup of tea, look out the window and say, "I just can't put enough bleach in my boss's coffee." As if any person can.
I think you're funny when we line dance on your mother's grave while you sing a Bob Marley medley and stare at the sky wistfully. I know she misses you too.
I think you're funny when you whore yourself out in the old folk's home, take pictures of the events, then mail them to the seniors' relatives. I even thought it was funny when you used one of those pictures for our Christmas card.
I think you're funny when you're drunk, picking fights with random psychologists and screaming, "I enjoyed being molested, asshole. Did you ever think of that?" Almost to a person, it quickly becomes clear they never thought of that.
I think you're funny when you can't decide what clothes to wear for a night on the town and then light fire to the majority of your wardrobe, grinning manically as you yell "Burn baby burn." The fire is never as beautiful as your face but it's a close second.
I think you're funny when you arm wrestle me for dinner tabs. And I even think you're funny when you win.
I think you're funny when you hold funerals for recently shaven pubic hair, especially when the pubic hair in question is mine. I like the funny names you give my taint hair.
You make me laugh like no other.
Happy Anniversary, Baby.
PS
Thanks for the crossbow. You always know what I like.