It was bad enough his friend squatted for almost a month, but as soon as that problem was clear-- i.e. Everyone yelled/sat-down- to-talk for weeks-- he brings in a hookworm-diseased puppy home, whose entrance into a room was proceed by the smell of death. But don't worry about the hookworms. The medicine is in the mail.
I don't know if you know what hookworm is. But I get the feeling that this picture is so gross and freaky, this is your last visit to my blog.
When you really think about it-- how it uses those teeth to make it's way through your foot to your intestine, it's gross.
It's already a crime against noses that puppies shit where ever they feel like, but add an owner whose never home, and acts like an Adam Sandler character-- placing pillows on top of stains-- but that is how it's dirty dirty worms travel and infect everyone else.
Everything would've been um, alright-I-guess after the "friend who will only be here a couple days" and having to call the cops because he was blackout-drunk and invited the sketchiest people in the bar back to our house to blast music, and later threaten our lives.
Then one day he's joking with the-other-couple-in-the-house's dog about "finding him a brother" and what do you know? Literally the next day there's a very large puppy in the house.
If only we could get this one to play piano. Or at least Lysol his own stains.
Don't misinterpret my love for puppies, he's adorable. But in need of medical attention, and an owner who knows how to google "training a puppy." Instead of one who throws a tantrum when you tell him his dog-- that you never agreed was "cool" to bring home-- just peed and shit in front of your door this morning.
It makes me wonder about the people who give people dogs. Who gave this guy a dog?
Later, at the eviction ceremony, which I did not attend because I don't want to get into a dirty-looks contest with disturbed egomaniacs (nor do I care for roses), after he made innocuous claims and told everyone, "This is MY town!" he was handed his Notice.
Actual paperwork drawn up by a lawyer telling him to "gitt out!"
Then there was story of a death stare, and he vanished into the night. Leaving us with the knowledge that he would probably return in a drunken haze.
And we'd be left awkwardly dancing around someone we've now acknowledged to his face, we can't even discuss things with his face, without his head blowing up and sucking all the alcohol around it. And then sending all the dudes in the house a weirdly pornographic-yet-threatening text message.
So now it's Friday, the day the landlord proclaimed as "The day the Bachelor will be gone" and who knows if he's found a new place, even looked a little bit, or perhaps more expected decided to stubbornly stay put till we have to call the police and awkwardly have them drag him out.
All I know is I hope I can walk barefoot upstairs again soon. I'll let you know when it happens, until then I am
Sincerely yours,
LA Hoxie
P.S.
I wanted to find a picture from The Bachelor, but after half-an-hour searching, I realized that even I wouldn't get the joke.
