Day 1569

Come in, back is open, dog's in? Hmmm. Stoney, backyard, not pickin' up dogshit. Alone. Great life. Smoke away.

Turns out (this was the 5 minutes of actual conversation I was able to have with Stoney's residence of 9 months, after 5 minutes It's psychosis kicks in and conversation ceases). He's taking 12 credits, why? He filed too late. Big surprise. Student loan? Ha, never even came up. THAT would require responsibility.

Remember when I attempted to help w/homework, it made a point to stand behind him and tear me a new one? Remember, @ that exact moment I detached? Remember that.

And best of all, as he sits in the backyard and smokes. it went to DMV for him. Amazing.

Oh, and of course, no job.

Tough life.

And what do I do? Oh, little things, like make sure there's a place to live. But of course that's assumed. I'm sure the picture is painted of me as useless. As they do nothing to maintain where they sleep.

Remember, he sits in the backyard, NOT even giving a thought to picking up the shit from the animal he wanted, nor walking the beast. Yet, the "I love you's" pour forth from him and his 9 month residence.