Can someone take me in tomorrow night?

I've just overheard a Dipshit conversation with his "babe" from Philly...something about "Penn Station tomorrow night" and "what time will you have to leave Saturday?" This would be the 3rd time in about 6 weeks that this stupid bitch has infringed on my space. Yup, she's coming...just heard it officially. Shoot me. Shoot me NOW. I'm actually more unhinged in theory over this...i'm in an oddly good mood now. And he's been pretty NOT on my nerves all week. AND I have only 2 more weekends to put up with his bullshit before his Summer Beach House begins. And, thus, MY City Beach House commences. Still, though, ANY time of mine wasted in my own fucking house working around some visiting bitch grates on my last fucking nerve. The best will be when he "casually" tells me soon that she'll be coming...um, as if I didn't fucking hear him? Can I respond, "so I heard" without sounding obviously agitated? No, instead i'll have to play dumb and mutter "OK" in my peppiest of tones. Haven't said it in a while...I fucking hate him.

*PS...got $1.88 Entenmann's pound cake (more than half off) tonight at Pathmark...went through the self-serve line...put my fucking pound cake in the basket (sorry, little SILENCE OF LAMBS joke) as instructed (actually, BAG, not basket), then when it was all done, I swiped my pound cake up and threw it in my gym bag, leaving the bag fresh, empty, and ready for someone ELSE. YAY! I did it again!! You know, that makes me think...I don't know a SINGLE ShopRite with self-serve lines. What the fuck, SR?! Get on the ball!