day 647

when a decision is more than a decision

Bad karma pt 99.

The other day, peeps call asking if I wanted Mets tix for last night. Hearing that rain was predicted, and thinking Stoney wouldn't give a fuck, I declined. BIG mistake.

As usual, Stoney was setting me up. He was being social. When a teen's social, they want something. In this case, pocket $, per the note left on the counter this am. Sweet fucker he is, he left 2 100's (seperate tests) under his request. He COULD just ask for $, but good, he feels he must substantiate his request.

But that wasn't the bad news. He says he would'a been interested in the game! EVEN if it rained. WTF??? One second he's a sullen teen, next he's Mr.Fucking Social.

Blew that one didn't I?

Wait..it got worse.

We hung out, actually had a GREAT evening watching The Office, then Office on TBS...then...then... FUCK ME! Shebitch fucked with my stuff, AGAIN! Beside the bed I had the clothes I wore @ The Marathon. Notice, "HAD." Yep, Bitch struck again. Now, when I walked into Toxichouse, there were papers sticking out from under the couch, I was so happy Stoney'd gone to the gym I was willing to overlook my mail getting stolen, again, and flung under the sofa. I was EVEN willing to overlook Stoney telling me Shebitch wanted a plant for Mother's Day (fat fucking chance of that), but, my belongings AGAIN stolen, I went nuts.

Turns out, as Shebitch periodically does as a hoarder, It had Its shit all over the place, my belongings were swept up when It piled (notice, not "hung" but "piled") Its crap in Its closet. Now, let that sink in. It sleeps on a couch in the living room, but uses the bedroom as the locus in which to spread its shit EVERYWHERE, literally. My side of the bed isn't even a safe zone.

It comes in, digs through the pile in Its closet, and of course, my stuff is buried within. Amazing.

Must be nice to live where you WANT to, rather than HAVE to.

...AND the Mets lost, extra innings no less. SHIT. Should'a/could'a....

Ran this am, St.Francis. Wonder why?