Nine Out of Ten Babies Surveyed Chose Amy Winehouse as Their Preferred Sitter.

“Okay, you win, Amy. You wanted to hear me say it? Fine. Fuck it. ‘You win.’

“I thought you had got the message after the whole ‘Let's do lines off our genitals’ episode, but nope, you just trudged ahead, even after I peed in your eye when you bent over to snort coke off my wee wee, even after I got ‘colicky’ when it was my turn to do you. Do you remember? You just told me to ‘nut up and come on’

“Nut up, I did, but, still, hours later, when I'd really had it, I thought you knew I was tipping my hat to the victor when I batted the kit away after the third round of speed balls. You didn't. You just kept forcing the needle on me and screaming, ‘Find a vein, you little shit! Find a vein!’ I will never play Pin the Tail on the Donkey without thinking of you.

“Then, amazingly, I got a second wind. Watching the sunrise, rinsing the vomit (yours?) from my mouth with the remains of my 40-oz, I thought, ‘You know, I'm glad she didn't accept my surrender earlier because, seriously, now, in the promise of this new day, I think I can take her.

“That must have been the acid talking, because 15-minutes ago, when I was blowing that guy in the bathroom for shot money — ‘It'll be fun’ you said; ‘Just like sucking a long nipple,’ you said (Liar) — I realized I should have never chased you down this rabbit hole.

“So even though I've been matching you Spontaneous Abortion for Spontaneous Abortion, I'm done and I'm saying it. No more passive aggressive suggestions. No more angry gestures. No more febrile seizures. ‘You win.’

“Now, pass me over to my mommy. I'm going to hit some titty real quick and pass out. Call me later if you get your hands on some good shit.”