Dipshit's predictability, Take 2 (aka, My Savvy Manipulative Genius)
Some of you (anyone? ANYONE?) may recall the Great Ketchup Incident of exactly one year ago this month...when Dipshit opened my on-the-shelf ketchup, then later -- after I began routinely moving it to MY "area" of the fridge -- "innocently" asked if it was actually mine. Um, yes, asswipe, it WAS. And I don't appreciate you opening it. Anyway, that was irritating enough. But he THEN never bothered to actually buy his own bottle. MONTHS went by...and he continued using MY ketchup.
Now, the ONLY thing I EVER use ketchup for is french fries. That's it. I'd add burger to that list...except I never actually COOK burgers at home. And i'm not eating frozen fries all TOO often. So I don't use ketchup that much. But it's MINE. And I PAID for it. And i'm not into sharing a damn fucking thing with Dipshit beyond the rent money. He's not my brother, cousin, friend, life partner. He's a means to an end. And just very basically...it's the principle of it...use your fucking brain and remember to buy your OWN ketchup if you use it so bloody much. In a word, the whole situation was IRRITATING. I'd be livid if I bought fries...then was out of ketchup because assfuck used all of it. I have a thousand things on my mind every day...something SO stupid and trivial as worrying what food Dipshit's using of mine does NOT need to be one of them.
SO...in roughly late July, I threw what was left of the ketchup out. It had just passed its sale date, something i'm VERY aware of. And right then and there, I decided I wasn't buying more ketchup. But what if I'D need some? Hmm. I decided I'd steal packets from fast food places and discreetly hide them in the bottom compartment of the fridge, KNOWING that sometime in the autumn, once Dipshit was done with his shore house, he'd be back to using ketchup on whatever hot hash brown or whatever the fuck it is he's always putting it on for breakfast every single weekend. And he'd see we'd be out. And then HE'D finally be forced to cough up the dough for HIS motherfucking ketchup. THAT was my plan.
Well, it took about 2 months longer than I thought (thankfully...as he's been gone most weekends), but Dipshit yet again just played exactly according to the script in my head. Here I sat, enjoying the internet, Greta interviewing Sarah Palin, and a hot cup of tea on this blustery November Sunday, when in strode Assfuck with a query. "Hey, Gary, do you have any more ketchup anywhere? We seem to be out." OH? HUH. Now THIS is a shocking development. And so I put on my best acting face and nonchalantly said no. Cue look of distress. Now he's normally blind -- you know, to things like a chunk of his shit sitting on the toilet seat -- so I can't IMAGINE that he somehow spied the few little packets in the bottom compartment, hidden partly under my 12-pack of english muffins. But you never know. So there's a CHANCE his look of distress was compounded by feelings of rage that I was lying to him. Oh, well...but, again, I doubt it. I wouldn't give a flying fuck anyway. HOPEFULLY, he'll now buy some ketchup ASAP...allowing ME to finally buy a jug right after he does. Holy Christ, I can't believe I just wasted a good half hour writing this. Cathartic, at the very least.
Now, the ONLY thing I EVER use ketchup for is french fries. That's it. I'd add burger to that list...except I never actually COOK burgers at home. And i'm not eating frozen fries all TOO often. So I don't use ketchup that much. But it's MINE. And I PAID for it. And i'm not into sharing a damn fucking thing with Dipshit beyond the rent money. He's not my brother, cousin, friend, life partner. He's a means to an end. And just very basically...it's the principle of it...use your fucking brain and remember to buy your OWN ketchup if you use it so bloody much. In a word, the whole situation was IRRITATING. I'd be livid if I bought fries...then was out of ketchup because assfuck used all of it. I have a thousand things on my mind every day...something SO stupid and trivial as worrying what food Dipshit's using of mine does NOT need to be one of them.
SO...in roughly late July, I threw what was left of the ketchup out. It had just passed its sale date, something i'm VERY aware of. And right then and there, I decided I wasn't buying more ketchup. But what if I'D need some? Hmm. I decided I'd steal packets from fast food places and discreetly hide them in the bottom compartment of the fridge, KNOWING that sometime in the autumn, once Dipshit was done with his shore house, he'd be back to using ketchup on whatever hot hash brown or whatever the fuck it is he's always putting it on for breakfast every single weekend. And he'd see we'd be out. And then HE'D finally be forced to cough up the dough for HIS motherfucking ketchup. THAT was my plan.
Well, it took about 2 months longer than I thought (thankfully...as he's been gone most weekends), but Dipshit yet again just played exactly according to the script in my head. Here I sat, enjoying the internet, Greta interviewing Sarah Palin, and a hot cup of tea on this blustery November Sunday, when in strode Assfuck with a query. "Hey, Gary, do you have any more ketchup anywhere? We seem to be out." OH? HUH. Now THIS is a shocking development. And so I put on my best acting face and nonchalantly said no. Cue look of distress. Now he's normally blind -- you know, to things like a chunk of his shit sitting on the toilet seat -- so I can't IMAGINE that he somehow spied the few little packets in the bottom compartment, hidden partly under my 12-pack of english muffins. But you never know. So there's a CHANCE his look of distress was compounded by feelings of rage that I was lying to him. Oh, well...but, again, I doubt it. I wouldn't give a flying fuck anyway. HOPEFULLY, he'll now buy some ketchup ASAP...allowing ME to finally buy a jug right after he does. Holy Christ, I can't believe I just wasted a good half hour writing this. Cathartic, at the very least.
posted by Gregoire at 11:16 AM
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