I’m not tryin to hear that see:

I love Steve, because if you’re having a shitty day, he’ll say, “Hey shower-cryer, want to go get a drink?” and then he’ll totally buy your drinks, and never forget the limes, and bring you a CD of funny songs, and he’ll sing “I got a man, what’s your man got to do with me?” and never ask you about your rotten day that you’d rather not discuss, but instead tell stories that start with, “So we were really drunk, and there was this hammer…”