Look, I promise, I’m not a cliche,
I know I’m kinda crazy, and all my guy friends are gay.
I like bad TV, like Housewives of Orange Skin,
And I eat too much ice cream so I’ll never be thin.
I have too many cats, and I spend lots of time alone,
And I play Bejeweled Blitz from the comfort of my phone.
But its ok, I’m happy, I found the perfect man,
He’s very, very handsome and eats food from a can.
His name is Beefcake Mancat and he’s perfect in every way,
He lives inside my house, though once he was a stray.
His pecs are solid, his biceps are buff,
And even though he purrs, he’s still pretty tough.
He’s compact and lean, and fits in a bag,
But he dresses like a jock and his jeans still sag.
His eyes are so earnest, so soulful and green,
His 6 pack is impeccable, and his deltoids glean.
He’s a great listener and he never talks back,
But he sheds like a motherf*cker so you can never wear black.
He either smells like litter, or overpriced clothes,
So go kiss his muscles, or his little wet nose.