Pete Rubens vs. The World

Public Display of Thirst: Dear Rosa Acosta

Dear Rosa Acosta,

I say this with the utmost respect and dignity; but bitch you are perfect. You, my Dominican goddess with a frame hand crafted by Zeus himself, are the source of approximately 63% of my thirst. Trust me, I’ve done the calculations. I can’t even voyage the Instagram boulevards without being overwhelmed by the thirst in seeing your body contorted in some strange position. You don’t have me fooled, I know what you’re doing, waiting for me to slip up and say something foul so you can block me and and have me accosted by the authorities, shit ain’t working.

I’m well aware of your past, and I know you’re well aware that being the authentic nigga I am, I don’t give a fuck, not a singular one. I can taste the pain and regret in your sweat ma, and even though I’m not Rob Kardashian verified, Jay-Z said ‘washup’ to me once, that’s gotta count for something.

But back to you being perfect. It’s more about your looks and insane ability to put your leg behind your heel at any given moment, much more than that. Most would think you’re accent is a downside, not I said the black guy, for I got a B+ in Spanish 3, plus I’ll always have an excuse not to talk when the game is tied with 2 minutes left in the 4th. As for your hair, you & I can sit side by side and receive taper fades hand in hand baby, it’s whatever. All I ask for is beautiful, God fearing, children with zero fucks to give, is that too much to ask for?

- Yours Truly,

Pete Rubens