Yea, lousy sex but it was your fault. 

Living room, ice clinking in our drinks, your lips glistening in the dim candlelight, a soft scent of fine perfume, a silent thunderstorm of desire. Then you did the unimaginable. You poured the rest of your vodka&7 into the small plastic aquarium where my seamonkeys live. I panicked but tried to look calm. You slid down the zipper of your slinky black dress but I had one eye on the seamonkey village as the vodka infused their magical little world. Fine satin underwear, you tossing back your long silky hair, but I couldn't turn away from the turmoil they were now experiencing. Stumbling through their little seamonkey village, singing Firework loud and offkey, yelling "I love you man" down the streets of Seamonkey Village. I was distracted, I couldn't focus on what we were doing. I know it wasn't good. Can I get a do over?