smothered hope

Dear Room-mates,

Get out of the house this evening. I will be transferring my CDs to my hard drive, among other things, and so help me, I do not want to listen to the same Radiohead album over and over again whilst I do it. I also do not want to watch another movie, nor do I want to hear the manic keyboard clattering of your MSN conversation. I do not want you pacing around the house, jacked up on twenty cups of oversteeped tea. I do not want to hear The Simpsons' theme song for just one night.

I don't want you there. I want to be alone so that I might dance in my underwear, drink all the beer (for a change!) and get to do my own laundry (for a flippin' change!). I want to turn the phone's ringer off, because there is only one housemate amongst us who is hearing impaired, and he never answers the bleeding phone anyhow. I want to unplug the Blurmaster 3000 from my computer and re-attach the proper, functional monitor that a certain roomie "purchased" from Steve, apparently for $0.00. I also want back from said roomie, the digital camera which Steve gave to me.

I want you mooches out of the house. Just for one evening, I don't want you making more mess you'll never pick up, I don't want to listen to your outdated taste in music, I don't want to put up with your manic moods, I don't want you to eat all the damned food you'll never replace, and I don't want to answer the phone when your family calls.

I am going to go home, drink good beer (not the same, cheap, domestic shit you buy because you'll save two bucks at the grocery), listen to good music (I liked Radiohead until I had to listen to "The National Anthem" four million times in a row), prepare my own food and clean up after myself when I'm done. And if you come home before I'm ready to give up my precious solitude, I will leave snakes in your bed.

And place raw meat in your pyjamas.
And give the cats coffee before I let them into your room.
And wipe my bum with your socks.
And blow my nose with your favourite t-shirt.

But if you're nice, and stay out until about 2am or so, I will buy us all breakfast at our favourite local restaurant tomorrow morning. Promise.

Deal?

Love,
Kitty xoxo

back | forth

listening:
reading:
ingesting:
(see entries before 20.11.05)

previously on Smothered Hope:

unreal - 20.05.08
in which our narrator kinda just babbles on a bit - 15.05.08
drank several margaritas last night. they were great. - 04.05.08
spacey - 29.04.08
i will most definitely regret posting this in public - 28.04.08