Their names are
Pam
Lauren
Henry
Ragini
Ben
Freedie
Jamie
D.
Laraine
You hurt them. You know you hurt them. They will never forgive you and you have no reason to expect them to. You don’t like that you hurt them and you don’t think you’re that great a person because of the pain you caused.
“But I’m going to try harder to be a better per--”
“No you won’t,” your support group shouts in unison.
You sit back down. You won’t, and you come here to have a bunch of people remind you that you won’t. You need others to let you know that any hope you have of being a better person is nothing but an empty dream.
“This is it!” you all shout while holding hands. “The people we are now is all we’re going to be and we just have to try not to ruin much stuff before we die.”
Moment of silence, then a bunch of you run off to have damaging sexual encounters that set you all back emotionally and financially for years.
Happy You Hurt Some People Day!
Monday, May 29, 2017
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
You're Living On Their Fire Escape Day!
You're pretty sure he's living with the wrong lady so you moved your stuff to their fire escape to wait it out.
"I don't know how to get rid of her!" he yells to his lady during one of their fights.
"You can't, dumbass," she yells back.
It's chilly out on the fire escape but they've been fighting more often. You think it should only be another couple of months.
"All I did was talk to her at a coffee shop," he whines. "I didn't tell her to move in out there."
They read the lease to see if they have recourse to get rid of you but it's standard boilerplate that the fire escape remains under control of the landlord and they almost never have people removed if they're waiting for tenants in a bad relationship to realize their mistake and part ways.
"You have to see this from my perspective," his landlord tells him. "When you two split up, If you keep the place and that one on the fire escape moves in, rent stays covered. If I clear her off the fire escape then you'll both have to move out and I gotta find new tenants. Always a crapshoot."
Over the next few weeks you develop bronchitis and it gets pretty bad but you don't leave your home of rusty steel and squirrels. Love is too important.
"The real issue," the lady inside says one sleepless night, "is what that lady out there is sensing about us. A lady doesn't brace the elements like this unless she detects a relationship in its death throes."
"So she's like one of those nursing home cats?"
That's what you're like. You're like one of those nursing home cats, the ones that sit on the beds of old people a few days before they croak. Except your bronchitis is getting bad. You yelp some doctors but none of them will climb the fire escape for a house call.
"I'm sick of her coughing," the lady inside says finally. "I keep the dog."
She packs up and walks out with a suitcase in one hand and the dog carrier in the other.
He opens the window and you crawl inside. You're weak and shivering since the bronchitis has turned to pneumonia, but it doesn't matter because you're inside now and he's kissing you as he lays you down lovingly, just in time for you to die in his bed.
Happy You're Living On Their Fire Escape Day!
"I don't know how to get rid of her!" he yells to his lady during one of their fights.
"You can't, dumbass," she yells back.
It's chilly out on the fire escape but they've been fighting more often. You think it should only be another couple of months.
"All I did was talk to her at a coffee shop," he whines. "I didn't tell her to move in out there."
They read the lease to see if they have recourse to get rid of you but it's standard boilerplate that the fire escape remains under control of the landlord and they almost never have people removed if they're waiting for tenants in a bad relationship to realize their mistake and part ways.
"You have to see this from my perspective," his landlord tells him. "When you two split up, If you keep the place and that one on the fire escape moves in, rent stays covered. If I clear her off the fire escape then you'll both have to move out and I gotta find new tenants. Always a crapshoot."
Over the next few weeks you develop bronchitis and it gets pretty bad but you don't leave your home of rusty steel and squirrels. Love is too important.
"The real issue," the lady inside says one sleepless night, "is what that lady out there is sensing about us. A lady doesn't brace the elements like this unless she detects a relationship in its death throes."
"So she's like one of those nursing home cats?"
That's what you're like. You're like one of those nursing home cats, the ones that sit on the beds of old people a few days before they croak. Except your bronchitis is getting bad. You yelp some doctors but none of them will climb the fire escape for a house call.
"I'm sick of her coughing," the lady inside says finally. "I keep the dog."
She packs up and walks out with a suitcase in one hand and the dog carrier in the other.
He opens the window and you crawl inside. You're weak and shivering since the bronchitis has turned to pneumonia, but it doesn't matter because you're inside now and he's kissing you as he lays you down lovingly, just in time for you to die in his bed.
Happy You're Living On Their Fire Escape Day!