A friend of mine went sailing with me, and pulled anchor before letting me know. I was down below, checking my engine. We had no propulsion -- no sails, no engine -- when he did that. Apparently he does everything in haste, as he also has admitted to me in the past, he got a girl pregnant when he had a one-night stand.

This happened weeks ago (the anchor incident), and I'm still a bit sore over it. But in typical passive aggressive style, instead of ragging on him about it, I write poetry.

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