With a hat tip to Wendy Cope’s “Faint Praise”.

Dating him isn’t all bad, she thought. It could be worse.
He’s no Adonis, and he doesn’t quite fit in his shirts.
He could tidy up more and his cooking could be better.
And he could use more common sense because he’s just not that clever.

He’ll never win an Oscar, never run a marathon,
His sense of fashion in the 80s is something we won’t dwell upon.
I won’t play his CDs in the car until his choices are less dour.
I couldn’t stand to hear him sing much longer in the shower.

I can say all these things to him, he’s never heard the likes of these
Because surprisingly enough, he’s never heard of litotes.

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