Lounging Around on Death's Doorstep

It began with a cough. Not my own cough. It was Juan's cough that kicked the flu festivities into action.

J: (cough)

D: Are you alright?

J: (COUGH) Yeah. I just have this tickle.

I JUST HAVE THIS TICKLE. And then he proceeded to hack maleficent microbes all over me for the rest of the evening.

I have succumbed. I'm fairly sure that my expiration is coming anon. In the meantime, I will lie in bed and nap between doses of Mucinex, Advil, Zicam, and Chloraseptic. Damn those little germy bastards! Damn them to hell!! (It is important to note that I would be screaming this last sentiment while shaking my fist to the sky, only my throat is far too sore and I don't have the strength to hold my arm up for that long.)


Monumentally Memorable

Wilbur came in the door and flopped, with all of his crap, on the couch. After a moment, he noticed the new piece of furniture. It's a tea cart. Antique. Pretty cool. But I'm not sure where it should really go.

"What's that?" he asked - and rather peevishly.

I explained the situation.

"Is that where you're going to leave it?" he asked in that tone of voice that makes me want to squeeze all of the air out of his body and leave him crumpled on the floor.

"For now. I'm just not sure where to put it."

"Well it looks kind of... weird." Again in a rather snotty tone of voice.

Now, I don't disagree. It looks weird. It needs to find a home. The thing that makes this incident so particularly perturbing is that Wilbur, as his name might suggest, is something of pig. And what's funny about it is that this is the thing that offends his aesthetic sensibilities when his piles of shit cover surface after surface in our apartment. I'm pretty sure, that, left to his own resources, he could allow things to be left in random places FOREVER.

For example, last MAY, I gave him a decorative wood box that then sat in our dining area - on the floor no less - for about seven months. SEVEN MONTHS.

Now I know the question here is, why the fuck didn't I do anything about it. Well the answer to that is two-fold. First, I don't feel like it's accomplishing anything to point out the obvious by saying, "That box I gave you is still sitting on the floor." He's not blind. Second, I don't ever want to feel like I'm cleaning up after him.

When we first moved in together, I often felt that way and I was annoyed with him all the time. Now that I've decided to just leave it alone, things are much better. Hence, sometimes shit is lying around in messy little pig piles for months.

So with these conditions ever-present in our domicile, you can imagine why it's so hilarious that the temporary position of a tea cart irks him. Hilarious and puzzling.

Brought to You By the Letter P

Evidently, P is a big letter in my vocabulary. My post titles seem to mostly start with P. I don't know if it's because I look at the list and see all the Ps or if I just really like P. It's a funny letter. Parfait, pickle, penis, pedant... All funny words. Sadly, the titles of my posts tend to be funnier than the content. Maybe I should try to move on to a new letter in hopes that the disparity between title and content will be less glaring. I'm going to think about switching to M.

Pernicious Personality Problems

I'm not a person who cares what other people think. About anything mostly. Okay, there was apparently a time when I was really little - between 2 and 4 - when someone thought I was a boy and I was quite vexed by this. I don't actually remember the incident. At any rate, that was quite a long time ago. At this point in my life I don't care, but I also don't operate under the dilusion that anyone is giving me much thought.

What's interesting to me is that I seem to have some really insecure people in my life. People who don't take a breath without wondering if someone thought it was too loud. And further, will someone hate them for breathing too loudly? Beyond the trivial, though, is the more insidious, "do they think I'm cool?"

This is a question that I find perplexing beyond almost anything. What's the target demographic on that one? Who could make them feel cool? And what's cool? I know we all know, but we all have a different idea. One thing we can all agree on, though, is that if you're trying to be cool and/or impress someone, you are not cool, nor will you impress anyone.

I have a close friend, or I guess it's more correct to say that I know someone who was once my close friend, who has fallen prey to this coolness disease. As a result, I can almost not stand her anymore. Over the last few years she's regressed to what can only be called an adolescent state of mind. Conversation with her is nearly impossible. Her range of interests seem to include shopping and celebrity gossip and little else.

In the past few months she's been adapting her personality to try to fit the new people she spends time with, spouting "facts" like, "You could be eating cloned eggs and not know it." I haven't heard her have an opinion in the last couple of years, either. She's happy to tell me what some other person thinks, though. "Jane says that I should get a job at Blah, Inc."

I've actively ended more than a few friendships in my life. And all evidence is pointing to the fact that I may have to do it again.



People who are bad houseguests are some of the most irritating people in the world.


1) Under no circumstances should you go through my medicine cabinet. I realize that this is something that many people do, and I further realize that many people would never notice that you did so. I am, what we will call, particular. My medicine cabinet is in a very specific order, down to the directions the labels on things face. It's tidy and I know what it looks like. If someone sticks their giant fist in there and moves stuff around, I know about it.

2) Don't steal presription drugs from my roommate. Tacky. And... illegal.

3) When you are told that five days is too long for you to stay, don't lie and say you're staying two days and then end up staying five. It's childish. And inconsiderate.

4) Don't make a giant mess in the living room.

5) Don't feel compelled to talk when you have nothing interesting or informed to say.

6) Hair stuck with ejaculate to my shower curtain is uacceptable. And just disgusting.

7) Never call me at midnight to ask me to pick you up from somewhere I'm not.

8) Avoid telling me stories back to me that I told you as if they were your own.

And finally...

9) Refrain from complaining about everything.

Follow this guide and we'll get along very well and have a great time. Otherwise, well, go elsewhere.