absinthe

So this morning I saw a piece of paper on my roomates bed, and since no one was around and since I'm a horrible person I slunk in and read it.

Bad Absinthe.
It ended up being a breakup letter from his cute girlfriend.
Then I felt bad about reading it ... although it did clarify why an anonymous person (covered by blanket) was sleeping on the couch the other night when I came out to get a post-coital popsicle at 3 in the morning.

It's up to me to solve these domestic mysteries, in whatever snoopy way I can. Don't judge me.

You heard me ... who needs a ciggarette in bed when you have the popsicles with two sticks. Yum.