Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a woman, who's not a freak.
One who's beautiful, smart, and independent.
She's not afraid to admit when she was bitchy.
One who thinks before she nags.
When she does call, she doesn't just talk but also listen.

I pray that she is passionate about life,
won't lose her head when she's pissed.
Doesn't pull out my chair undreneath me and tell me to open my door.
Massages my back and do much Much MUCH more.

Oh! Send me a woman who will make love to my six-pack,
(as if it exists, either now or the future.)
Knows what to say when I ask, "Fabio or Brad Pitt?"
One who'll make love till no body is itchy.
She knows how to cook, as much as I do in the kitchen.
(which isn't instant noodles.)

I pray that this woman will love me for who I am.
And would never ask me to be whom I can never be.
Thank you in advance, and now I'll just go to a bar,
for I know you will send me a beer instead.

Amen.

June 7, 2001, Palo Alto