[ mood | pissed off ]
[ music | N to tha O-N-E. ]
Oh. My. God.
I've had it up to fucking here.
Marisa's boyfriend has been at our apartment every day and night, with the exception of like two or three days, since they started dating a little over a month ago. At first I was kind of weirded out by it, but whatever. Not really a big deal.
Gradually though, he's been irritating me more and more. He doesn't pitch in any money for groceries and he basically lives here. He's always lurking about in the TV room. You know, there are times I just want to be alone, to be able to walk around in my underwear and fart and stuff. But no.
And today he really crossed the line.
Marisa and I take turns washing the dishes. She neglected to do her turn, then went away for the weekend, leaving over a week's worth of both of our dishes in the sink. It was getting gross, so I cleaned them for her. I asked if she would take a double turn next time, since I did her last one. There's not that many dishes in the sink--just two days' worth. Her boyfriend told me I should do them because I was the one who used the dishes while she was away. Like I didn't wash her dishes? What. The. Fuck.
But that's not even the point. The point is, where does this fucker get off thinking he can tell me what to do in MY apartment. Does he pay rent? NO. Does he buy groceries? NO. Does he pay the fucking cable bill? NO.
So he can suck. my. dick.
I've been meaning to ask him if he has any friends or a life because he's seriously here ALL THE TIME.
UGH! I can't take people anymore!
Love,
Jess
[ music | N to tha O-N-E. ]
Oh. My. God.
I've had it up to fucking here.
Marisa's boyfriend has been at our apartment every day and night, with the exception of like two or three days, since they started dating a little over a month ago. At first I was kind of weirded out by it, but whatever. Not really a big deal.
Gradually though, he's been irritating me more and more. He doesn't pitch in any money for groceries and he basically lives here. He's always lurking about in the TV room. You know, there are times I just want to be alone, to be able to walk around in my underwear and fart and stuff. But no.
And today he really crossed the line.
Marisa and I take turns washing the dishes. She neglected to do her turn, then went away for the weekend, leaving over a week's worth of both of our dishes in the sink. It was getting gross, so I cleaned them for her. I asked if she would take a double turn next time, since I did her last one. There's not that many dishes in the sink--just two days' worth. Her boyfriend told me I should do them because I was the one who used the dishes while she was away. Like I didn't wash her dishes? What. The. Fuck.
But that's not even the point. The point is, where does this fucker get off thinking he can tell me what to do in MY apartment. Does he pay rent? NO. Does he buy groceries? NO. Does he pay the fucking cable bill? NO.
So he can suck. my. dick.
I've been meaning to ask him if he has any friends or a life because he's seriously here ALL THE TIME.
UGH! I can't take people anymore!
Love,
Jess
tiny death is my bid for jhonen vasquez groupies