The Most Annoying Question in The Dating World

There are a lot of annoying questions that get asked in the dating world. However, I would say the most annoying questions is: Why are you still single?

As if there’s a simple answer! Allow me to try and explain why this question gets me worked up. In some instances, it would seem the man asking is attempting to pay me a compliment. Case in point, I received a text message just minutes ago from a man I started talking to on the weekend. It read, “So how is someone with that amazing smile still single? Or is that by design?” I know, you’re probably thinking to yourself, he’s just being nice, he doesn’t mean anything by it. And he actually IS paying you a compliment. I know. And that’s why I deleted my original response to him for a simpler, “I’m single because I’m single.” But what I actually wanted to do was call him a jackass and tell him to never ask that question ever again. Why? Let me rant on and tell you why.

Complimenting something you like about my appearance while following up with a question about my relationship status makes me feel like you think that’s the reason someone should want me. This man knows absolutely nothing about me. He is attracted to me. He’s seen me at McNally’s a few times, has been too shy/intimidated to actually approach me, and so he messaged me on pof. That’s ok. But we have had minimal conversation up to this point. He doesn’t know that in addition to having a great smile I’m also hilarious, smart, charismatic, charming, kind, a great cook, etc.

Another side of the question is after we’ve actually spoken enough for them to get to know me a bit and then ask the question. Like, you seem so great, so why are you single? Translation: What’s wrong with you? What are you hiding? In my best moments, I let it go with an eye-roll and tell them I don’t waste my time dating anyone who isnt’ right for me. I may be too picky, but I often give too many chances as it is, and I’m not going to settle just because someone else thinks I should. In my weaker moments, I allow the question to creep through the cracks in my self-confidence. Why AM I single? What the fuck is wrong with me? When I ask these questions to myself, it does not make for a pleasant brainstorming session. I have a couple flaws. But after I acknowledge these, I remind myself of how awesome sauce I am and remember that it’s not a matter of men wanting or not wanting me, it’s almost always been my decision. There have been far more men who have wanted to be a part of my life than there have been men I’ve wanted to spend time with.

I’m single because I’m fucking single. It is a choice. I do not want to be alone forever, but I am not afraid of being alone. And I would rather be alone than be in a boring, abusive, unfaithful, or convenient relationship. I guess it would be a lot easier for most men to accept an easy answer, like, “I just got out of a relationship” or “I’ve been focusing on my career” than to hear my honest answer. Fuck those guys. Stop asking questions you don’t want to hear the answers to! Rant over.

Kris & Kelly: Kris Doesn’t Come Home

So, I haven’t heard from Special K (Thanks to Mike for the nickname) all week. He hasn’t called, texted, written, or sent any pigeons. How am I supposed to evict someone who doesn’t even show up?!

And then yesterday, I receive a text from Kelly. It reads, “Kris went to court this morning and is going back this afternoon. They want jail time from him. I’m gonna have to come by at some point and start getting his stuff though then when he gets out he will pay you.”

Me: “Nope. Anything that crack addict may have left here can be picked up by him personally when he pays me and returns my iPad.”

Kelly: “lol he didn’t tak an iPad his computer is missing to if I don’t get his stuff back he sending his friends to get it.”

Did this bitch just threaten me?! I’m not refusing to give Kris his stuff back. But I am refusing to give it to this little cunt. Given what I know of their relationship, how am I supposed to even know if they’re actually still dating? Since douchebag Kris is now wearing stripes, she’s probably been taking her slut show to all the club bathrooms around the city! And seriously? His computer is missing? It certainly wasn’t any of my friends who took it, which only leaves him and his “friends”. I just told her I’m not going to argue with her and Kris can pick him stuff up personally. And that if he’s in jail, it’s not like he’s going to need it anyways. Although, come to think of it, he could probably use that lube…

Kris & Kelly: Kris Goes to Jail

This is my 200th post. Yay! I wish the content were a little better, but here we are. For your amusement, shock, and disgust.

Friday comes along, the day my roommate is supposed to have his rent money. I sleep in since it’s my day off and I hear him leave the house around 10 or 11. He’s gone all day. At 6:30, I text him to ask when he’s going to be home and that I need his rent money. No response all night. I text him again in the morning and tell him I need his rent money TODAY. $100 he still owes from October, $600 for November, $40 for cab, and $20 for stolen lube. That’s a total of $760. Plus, I still can’t find my iPad. I looked everywhere. I left it in my room when I went to Saskatoon last Saturday. I don’t remember seeing it since.

Close to noon, I get a text from Trashbag Kelly (how she’s saved in my phone). It says, “Kris is in jail. he got pulled over for a 0.8 he goes to court on Monday and he says he should be out then but i have to come get trigger today”.
Me: That sucks, but what am I supposed to do about my rent? He still owes from last month, plus this month.
TK: I don’t know. I’ll tell him to get a hold of you on Monday
Me: I don’t mean to put you in the middle, but if you talk to him, tell him monday may be too late. I have bills to pay and my life to live and his fuck up is not my problem. I’ve been very patient with him, but he needs to figure out a way to pay me today, jail or no jail. I fed and watered Trigger, but he’s pretty low on dog food. When do you want to pick him up?
TK: I’ll let him know if I talk to him and I’ll pick him up sometime this afternoon
Me: I may not be here. (Does this fucktard expect me to wait around all day for her?)
TK: I’ll text you beforehand to see if you’re there and if not I can just wait until you are.

An Hour and a half later:

TK: Are you at home? I need to know I have my friend that is going to pick trigger up.
Me: Yes.
TK: Ok can u answer the door when he knocks he will be there right away
Me: Does he know how to use a doorbell?
TK: I don’t know he said he is going to knock.

That response killed me! Sarcasm is lost on her. She doesn’t know? Is her friend a time traveller from the year 1732 before the doorbell was invented?!

I wait for this friend to show up. I even turn off the tv, and open the door to the porch so I can hear this stupid knock on the door. I hear nothing. I did see a truck drive away though, so maybe he was there and I didn’t hear him. But a short while later, a girl showed up. Just a tiny little thing with a squeaky girl voice saying she was there for Trigger. Now, this girl was happy to see this dog. She hugged him and he lost his mind when she came in. He obviously loves her. She should adopt him.

So, now the dog is gone. My roommate is in jail. I’m pretty sure he has a current DUI, plus who knows what from prior. I continue looking for my iPad and since he’s gone, I’m going to search his room. What’s the first thing I see when I start looking? A crackpipe. A motherfucking crackpipe! I had to google it just to know what kind of pipe it was! I’m very drug savvy. I was livid. LIVID. This cuntrag was not only smoking cigarettes in my house, but also crack?! I was appalled this douchebag was doing drugs in my house. I mean, do whatever kinds of drugs you want to, but don’t do them in my house! He wasn’t even trying to hide it! It was just laying right there in the open. Luckily I didn’t actually find any drugs. At least, I don’t think I did. Like I said, I’m not very savvy. I did find some lovely new decorative rocks that I added into a candle holder though. My house has been smelling fantastic!

I also found my favourite soup spoon bent to shit and burned. One of my metal measuring spoons was burned black. 3 of my drinking glasses were in his room. One had 5 cigarette butts and ashes in it. One was broken beside his bed. And one was sitting in between the window and the screen of the window. There were many empty beer cans and bottles. One broken bottle. The stolen bottle of lube. Various papers of which I read all of them. Some were payday loan agreements, some were work documents for sick time, some were detox and drug rehab coinciding with his time off work, and one was a letter written to his parents. The letter was essentially and apology to his parents for everything he had put them through and how he wanted to make them proud and he knows he’s been a disappointment up to this point. It was dated 2011. There was a simple note written underneath in response to him: “You can keep this letter. It’s full of lies.”

I texted his dad. Yep, I ratted this kid out. He’s only 23 and this is his life? I figured if he was going to be moving back to Estevan, his parents should know he’s still a strung-out piece of shit liar. His dad’s response was simple. “If you feel unsafe, call the police. He has to hit rockbottom.”

I packed all his clothes into garbage bags, threw away anything related to drugs, and picked up all the empties. As I was moving his bed, guess what I found?! The Sasktel remote! I told you it would pay off remembering that! Oh, and I use the term “bed” quite loosely. He only has a mattress. I want you to picture an alley in a big city you’ve only seen in the movies. Imagine the homeless people, the rats, the cats, the junkies. Imagine the garbage. Now imagine if there were a mattress. That mattress you just imagined is the mattress this guy sleeps on. Without any sheets most of the time. And his girlfriend sleeps on. And that they have sex on. Are you throwing up yet?

He had nothing of value. Mostly clothes and random junk. He doesn’t even have his house key with him, so thankfully he won’t be able to get into the house. He won’t be allowed back in. His things will be in the backyard. Well, some of his things. Depending on how much money he shows up with. I’m sure I’ll have some sort of an update after tomorrow if he actually shows up or contacts me. Anyone want to hang out tomorrow (Monday)? lol

Drunk Roommate

I am evicting my roommate tomorrow. But first, let me tell you a couple of stories so you’re all caught up. I’ll start with the last week of October. It was early Tuesday morning. 4am early. I was soundly sleeping in my bed when there’s a knock on my door and my roommate pokes his head in and says my name. It took me a couple second to realize I wasn’t dreaming/nightmaring and woke up with a jolt. WHAT. “I really need to talk to someone. Can I talk to you?” Fuck. Ok, what’s up? (Real all his parts in a drunk voice. Because he’s smashed again) “I was trying to talk to someone online, but my computer was too slow. I just, I don’t know. I just feel like my life sucks and everyone hates me.” Why do you think everyone hates you? “I don’t know. I just do. Sometimes I think I should just…*pause*…I don’t know. I mean, I believe in God, so I would never actually hurt myself or anything, but…I dunno.” I wake up a little bit more. Am I going to have to talk this fucker down off a goddamn ledge at 4am in the morning? Let me mention I have to work at 7am, so I’m not super happy to be woken up by this idiot in the first place and then he goes and has the nerve to try and manipulate me with this fucking suicide talk?! I am not making light of suicide. Once you have heard everything, you will understand why I believe it was mostly bullshit and manipulation. Of course, there’s always a chance he’s serious, and so I listen. He goes on. “Do you know why Kelly and I were fighting the other night?” No, I have no idea why the two of you ever fight. “Because we went to Habano’s on Friday and I caught her fucking some other guy in the men’s bathroom!” Uhh….come again? “Yeah, so I punched him, all 3 of us got kicked out, and I kicked his ass when we got outside. And everyone keeps telling me I can do better than her, but, I love her, you know?” Sure, you two seem like the perfect couple on the outside. “Anyways, I should let you get back to sleep. I’m sorry for bothering you, I’m going to let you get back to sleep.” Great idea. Good night.

I am almost back asleep when there’s a knock on my door again. “Amy, are you still awake? I, um, I, uhh, I chickened out on what I actually wanted to talk to you about.” What, Kris? “Umm, well, I, uhh, umm, I, well, like, I need a ride to work this morning. But I don’t have money for a cab. Could you lend me some and I’ll pay you back on Friday?” Seriously? How much do you need? “$40 would probably be enough. The job site is in White City.” Will you let me sleep if I lend you that? Fine.

So I get out of bed. It’s 5am now. He is talking the whole time saying how he appreciates it and blah blah blah. I look at him and say, “Kris, stop talking. Just shut the fuck up. Here. I’m going to bed.”

I hear him go outside a bit after this for what I assume is a smoke before catching a bit of sleep before work. I fall right back to sleep. When my alarm goes off at 6, I get out of bed. All the lights are on in the house. I can see his bedroom light on under his door, and his dog whines when he hears me moving around. I go to let Walter out and the back doors are open. Not unlocked. OPEN. Wide open. I guess I’m heating the whole neighbourhood while extending a warm, welcoming invitation to anyone who loves a Tuesday morning rape and pillage. I assume this asshole isn’t home so I go and let his dog out also. I take a look around the yard to see if the gates are open too. Nope. He managed to make sure the gates to the yard were closed. Gates that are low enough to easily climb over, and don’t lock anyways. But not with it enough to close the doors to the house. Brilliant. As I’m scanning the yard, the memory of the conversation from the night before creeps into my mind and my eyes come to rest on the garage. What if he’s…in the garage? Fuck it. I have to get ready for work.

If only that was the end of this exciting morning. As I’m putting his dog back in his room, what do I spy laying on his mattress? A bottle of lube. Not just any lube. Passion Parties Warming Lubrication. The fucker helped himself to my product shelves! And judging from the amount that was gone, that fucker was wandering around the city like the greased up deaf guy from Family Guy! Add another $20 to his bill.

When I get home from work that night, he’s home. I give him shit for leaving the doors open. He tells me he doesn’t remember much except that he owes me $40, he ended up at work and his boss told him to go home, he woke up around noon at a friend’s house, then he came home and slept. Stellar human being.

That night, a girl shows up at our house who is not Kelly. This girl is a Teletubby. Head to toe, red Teletubby. I don’t know who she is. I don’t care. Kelly is back by the weekend.

Friday comes. Rent day. I pay rent. He doesn’t have rent yet. Surprise! He assures me he will have it the following Friday. Monday night. I get home from work. Before I even get in the house, I can smell it. Cigarette smoke. Once I get in the front door, it’s like a wave hits me. I’m beyond pissed. Kris comes out of his room. Drunk. Again. And he says to me, “Amy, I have bad news.” Yeah, Kris? Is the bad news that my house reeks of fucking cigarette smoke?! Don’t smoke in my fucking house! *Looks like a deer in headlights* “Uhh, I mean, I did, but it was in the back porch and I had the door to the kitchen closed.” (The “porch” is just a little landing between the kitchen and the basement.) I don’t care where you smoked in the house, don’t fucking do it again. It stinks. You know smoking isn’t allowed. Don’t.Fucking.Do it.Again. “I’m really sorry, it’ll never happen again. The bad news is actually that I’m moving out on the 15th.” (I fail to see the bad in this news.) He tells me he got another job and he’s moving back to Estevan. And of course he once again asks if I hate him and says I never talk to him. I explain that he’s been nothing but drama since he moved in and I want no part of it. So pay me my money on Friday, move on the 15th, and we’re all good.

Tuesday. I’m at work and he texts me to ask if I know where the Sasktel remote is. I tell him to look under the couch or in the cushions. He already did. Then I don’t fucking know, you idiot! He also tells me he doesn’t know what is happening with his new job now. They may not want him to start until freezeup. I don’t respond. I’ll wait for Friday to see if he pays rent before we talk about anything else. I look for this remote for the next few days. Nothing. I move furniture, dig into the couch, even look in the fridge. Nothing. I assume he had it while he was drunk and who knows where it ended up. Remember this little fact about the remote for the next post ;)

I don’t see much of him during the rest of the week, although the one day I want to take my iPad to work, I can’t find it. Uh oh. Thursday I’m woken up at 5:55am by someone knocking on the front door and I can hear a truck outside. The dogs bark and I hear him tell his dog to be quiet. (Sidenote: This poor dog still gets absolutely no attention. He’s constantly being told he’s bad and to lay down and stop and no and fuck off. He’s a bad pet dad.) I yell to him that someone is at the door. Moments later, I hear the truck drive away and I tell him that too. I’m going to guess that was his ride to work and he didn’t bother going in that day. Stay tuned for the weekend, kids!

The Kris & Kelly Show

Hey, did the rest of you happen to catch Sunday’s episode of my favourite nighttime drama, “Kris & Kelly”? It was the one titled: You’re So Emotional, Kelly. No? Well, let me catch you up! I arrive home from work just after 7pm and it’s been a long weekend of work and Passion Parties, and I’m looking forward to some quality couch and PVR time. But my roommate is watching tv and putzing around the kitchen. So I go to my room instead. Within minutes, my roommate goes into the bathroom and starts yakking. It goes on for so long that I begin to think he houses a small man made lake inside his body and is now trying to expel it. Or maybe he’s been possessed. Tis the season. Gross. I leave my room so I don’t have to listen to him anymore.

He goes to his room after and I switch to the livingroom to watch tv. All is quiet for a short while, and it’s glorious. And just when I’m settling in to some trash tv, my favourite (not favourite!) reality program begins. It starts out at a normal level of volume for a phone call. I can tell he’s on the phone, but I can’t make out what he’s saying over the tv. Which is perfect because I don’t care to eavesdrop. That choice is taken away from me as the volume of his voice grows. And it grows and it grows. Like a gentle rumble of thunder in the distance, I start counting the seconds between the lows and the highs, One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three mississip….Boom! High volume. One Mississippi, two missi…Boom! It’s getting closer! I’m right on the edge of my seat, my heart pounding! The storm is upon us! It all comes crashing down in a big booming “You’re so emotional, Kelly!!!”

This Again.

So, yesterday morning I get home from work, and the house smells like dog shit. Again. Just what I want after working a 12 hour night shift. Do you know why my house smells like dog shit? Do you? The obvious answer is because my roommate’s dog shit in the house. Again. And you’re right. But what I’m talking about is how my roommate cleaned it up, but instead of taking it out to the garbage bin in the backyard, he put it in the kitchen garbage and left it there. In the fucking KITCHEN garbage!!! Again!!! Fuck! So I take the garbage out and go to bed.

I`m relaxing and falling asleep when my roommate wakes me up by asking if I`m awake and needs a favour. He lost his phone and wants me to text his dad for him to find out when he`s picking my roommate up. So I do. His dad`s response is, “About a half hour. Tell him to be ready because I`m NOT waiting.“ Sounds like a real peach of a guy. So I tell Chris and he says ok, tell him to knock on the door and I`ll be ready. So I do. Except I tell him to ring the doorbell because we all know how well knocking on the door works. I`m falling asleep again and my phone goes off. It`s his dad asking me to tell my roommate `they`re in the city now. Fine. I tell him. I roll over to go back to sleep. Sadly, it does not come because his dad texts me again! This time to tell him he`s here. What part of come to the door and ring the bell didn`t you understand? Whatever.

On his way out, my roommate tells me he has a friend coming over to pick up Trigger right away. Great. This again. I ask him if she’s just going to come in and get him. He actually says to me, “Is that what you want? I could leave the door unlocked.” Yes, that’s what I fucking want! What did you think I would want? When did you think this through? Oh, you didn’t? You just assumed I would be around here and wouldn’t mind waiting for your asshole friend to pick up your fucking dog? Again?! Fuck. Yes, tell her to just come the fuck in and get him because I am going to sleep and not getting out of bed. He says he will let her know. This is all around 9am. I drift off to sleep.

11am. The doorbell rings. I have been sleeping deeply for roughly the last 2 hours. I’m all disoriented and it takes me a second to realize the doorbell is ringing. So much for showing up right away! I stay in bed for several reasons. One, I told my roommate this person could just come into the house. Two, I’ve only been sleeping 2 hours and do not want to leave the comfort of my bed. And three, I’m naked. And I have no intentions of getting dressed. So I wait for her to realize no one is coming to the door and to come in and grab Trigger. Doesn’t happen. Are you fucking kidding me?! I try to go back to sleeping, but I’m pissed. So instead, I text my roommate’s dad and tell him his son’s dog is still here and I am not watching him again all weekend. In addition to just not wanting to, I have some plans before work. Which would mean this dog would be locked in the bedroom for 15 hours. That’s not fair to Trigger, and it’s not fair to me to have to come home to the inevitable mess that he would make. The roommate gets back to me saying his gf will come and pick him up within the hour. Thank Christ. I let Trigger out and the dog must be comprised mostly of urine . He peed 3 times outside, and took a crap. I don’t think my roommate understands that this dog needs a feeding schedule that allows him access to the outdoors soon after he eats. I tell my roommate the door is still unlocked  and she come come right in. “Oh, so she can just walk in the house?” Yes! Fuck! This guy is suddenly concerned about being polite when he woke me up 6 times one night and called the cops to our house twice?!

I don’t know what is going to happen when he’s back. He told me he was going to send Trigger to Estevan with his parents, but we’ll see if that happens. I can’t handle this guy having a pet! But I desperately need a roommate. Sooo….fuck.

Domestic Disturbance

Wow, was that a night! I fell asleep on the couch in a turkey coma after having a lovely meal with some friends and their families. I woke up around midnight and made my way to the bedroom, noting that my roommate had not made it home yet. I was just falling asleep again when I hear my roommate and his gf coming up the steps. Mostly I heard Walter barking by my head because he heard them. Moments later, my roommate pops his head into my room and says, “Amy are you awake?” Well I sure fucking am now. What do you want? “Can I stay another month?” Uhh…I guess so. I can’t really be that picky since I have such shit luck even finding a roommate in the first place. (Side Note: It’s 12:20pm right now and as far as I know, the dog hasn’t been outside since sometime last night. He’s telling Trigger to go back to bed. This is the dog that could pee every 20 minutes if he had the chance. Maybe, just maybe, he needs to go outside.) It’s worth noting that he sounded drunk as fuck at this point. I can hear his gf, and another girl in the house too. This part doesn’t bother me at all. I don’t work in the morning and I’ve been that drunk person. So, party on, Wayne. I fall asleep. I wake up to them leaving. I hear a car start and then it’s quiet. Back to sleep. I wake up when they come back. Back to sleep. This happens again, me falling back asleep easily, because it’s just a brief wakeup. It’s not because they’re loud, it’s just because my window is open and my head is right by the window and the window is right by the front door. The next time I wake up it’s because there is a drunk angry girl’s voice slurring words about how my roommate is an asshole who tried to sleep with her. Now I’m awake. What I could make out was that she was accusing him of trying to fuck her while his girlfriend was asleep. And she turned him down. He called her a drunk and a liar and told her to get out of the house. She wouldn’t leave right away, so obviously the next move is to get the police involved. I hear him talking to police dispatch and telling them there is a girl in his house that won’t leave. He also tells them she’s telling his girlfriend lies. While he’s on the phone, this girl is talking to his girlfriend, and the gf is thanking her for not fucking her boyfriend. Who the fuck is this girl anyways?! She leaves while he’s still on the phone. So, I’m listening to my roommate on the phone with the police, plus listening to this drunk girl make phone calls on the street. Oh, and as she was leaving the house, I heard her call my roommate something along the lines of a “punk nigga”. I stayed in my room, but just so I can paint you a better picture of this whole thing, this girl sounded like a young native girl. Her voice was very little-girl like. My roommate speaks like he’s a cast member on Trailer Park Boys, and his girlfriend speaks like she’s the kind of girl who would date someone in a stereotypical trailer park.

So, I can hear this girl outside on the street calling various people, crying, I don’t know who she was talking to. At one point she said she felt “in danger”, and that she was new to Regina and didn’t know where she was and she was scared and begging whoever it was to come and get her. And then she called someone else asking them to come and get her because a cab would be really expensive. I heard her talk to several different people. For someone so new to Regina, she sure knows a lot of people already! At one point, my roommate went outside to ask her if she needed a phone. His dog got out, and he was calling Trigger back as this girl was calling Trigger to her. Trigger came back and my roommate came in and went to his room. This girl laughed and was shouting random insults and using the n-word. Shortly thereafter, the cops showed up. They asked her if she was ok and she told them she was bit by a dog that lived here. They clearly didn’t believe her since they just coaxed her into the car and then left. Great. I can go back to sleep.

Hahahaha Fat chance, Amy! Now that the random girl is gone, it’s time for a loud argument and breakup! The Real Housewives was my favourite reality show until now. Further information is revealed. The gf is calling him a piece of shit for trying to fuck this girl. He’s saying he didn’t. She’s saying she heard him and how stupid was he to try and cheat on her when they were all on the bed together and while he thought she was sleeping, she heard everything. (Heard everything, but still pretended to be asleep?) It got louder, Trigger was upset and crying, then there was a bit of a scuffle and my roommate says “Assualt! Assault! That’s it, I’m calling the cops and telling them you assaulted me!” She laughed and dared him to do it. He told her to get the fuck out of the house and give him his sweater back. She told him she would be happy to and took his sweater off and demanded he give her all her stuff. He wouldn’t give her her keys though. And called the cops while all this is going on. Because again, the obvious solution is to have the police involved. Like they don’t have real shit to deal with. So, he’s on the phone with them, telling them he’s reporting his gf who is drunk and trying to drive and hit him because he wouldn’t let her. And she’s disputing everything he says loudly in the background. (Interesting he had no problem with her driving several times before this point. Or maybe he was the one driving. I don’t know. But being drunk and driving didn’t seem to matter until this fight). She finally goes outside and is sitting on the steps. As you may remember, the steps are directly outside my bedroom window. Then SHE calls the cops! And says they’re on the phone with her bf at the moment too and he’s full of shit and she’s waiting for the cops outside and she’s freezing and wants to know when they’re going to be there. They finally show up and one is outside talking to the girlfriend (oh, she has also said several times by this point that she is no longer his girlfriend or fiancé. Did they get engaged at some point and I missed it?), and the other comes in and talks to my roommate. Listening to them, it occurs to me that the police are a little bit like bartenders, listening to the problems of drunk people, calming them, giving them advice and simple therapy. The police officer offered to help my roommate smooth-talk his gf about this whole cheating thing. There were a lot of “mans” and “take it easy” and sounds that I assume were chest bumping and bro handshakes. I’m not sure how I feel about this exchange. But that’s for another time. They left with his gf/ex-gf, and finally things were quiet.

Except that I had to pee. It’s roughly 530/6am at this point. I get up and since the roommate hears me, he pops his head out of his room and apologizes for everything and tells me his gf/ex-gf will never be here again. I tell him that she wasn’t the problem, but the whole night needs to not happen again. This isn’t the hood, I have nice neighbours and we live in a nice neighbourhood. And everything that happened was bullshit. To have the police come twice in one night for minor things that could have been solved by calling and paying for a couple of caba was one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard of. I never want to go to sleep in Cathedral and wake up in the hood again. He apologized profusely.

So, anyone need a place to live? My requirements are minimal at this point. Don’t leave food laying around, have basic good hygiene, pay rent on time, no pets, and don’t call the cops for anything that isn’t an emergency.

Trigger

I have roommate issues. To put it mildly. My last one moved out at the end of August and I spent that month and the next trying to find someone to take the room. I finally found a guy who needed a place just for a month. And thank god. Because it’s only halfway through the month and it’s been a trial already. He has this dog. Trigger. I’m not sure what kind he is. He looks like a pitbull or something. Super sweet, still just a puppy, but he’s huge. Which means he eats huge and shits huge. When my roommate is gone, he keeps the dog in his room. If I’m home first, I let him out when I let Walter out. Three times now I have either noticed the puddle, or actually seen this fucker lift his leg inside the house and pee on something. Once on my suitcase, once on a coat hanging on the back of a chair, and once on a bag. When he’s outside, he pees on everything. The bbq, the planters, the fountain, even Walter. So one day last week, I get home from work and as soon as I get into the house, actually, the porch. I hadn’t even made it into the house yet. There was a smell. A gross smell. I unlocked the door to the house and it got worse. I started sleuthing around to see where it was coming from and in doing so, opened the door to my roommate’s bedroom. BAM! It was like a wall of shit smell hit me. Trigger came bounding out, because he’s high energy and never does anything slowly. I look behind him and there was shit EVERYWHERE! On the floor, on the bed, on the laundry, on his pillow. And the smell. Oh.my.god. The smell. I slammed the door shut, let the dogs out, and immediately lit every candle I own and sprayed air freshener all around the bedroom door, and texted my roommate about the gift he had waiting for him.

So that was fine, accidents happen. Even gross ones. The roommate tells me he’s going to be gone to Edmonton to visit his sick grandmother for the weekend. I am looking forward to having the house to myself, since I decided not to go out to the farm. Friday rolls around and the roommate texts me around 5 to see if anyone came to pick up his dog. Ummm…no. Was someone supposed to? We hadn’t discussed my weekend plans or if I was going to be around, and he didn’t ask. And he didn’t warn me that someone would be coming to get his dog. How exactly was this friend going to pick up Trigger if I hadn’t been here and the door had been locked? He ended up asking me to let Trigger out and feed him. Which I did. But he didn’t ask anything else, like, was it ok if I watched him Friday night, or was I even going to be around. Saturday morning, he texts saying a different friend was going to pick Trigger up. Great. So I’m waiting and waiting, and I look outside a couple times and there is a vehicle sitting outside the house, but no one ever gets out and the doorbell doesn’t ring. He texts me and says his friend came to the door and knocked, but I didn’t answer so she left. I was like, is she a time traveller who doesn’t know what a fucking doorbell is? When someone only knocks on the door, I don’t usually hear it. I have a door to the front porch, and another door inside after that. I understand there’s no way she could know that, but I do expect her to know about doorbells. So I tell him to tell her I’m still at home, I will be all day and I’ll leave the doors unlocked so if I’m outside or in the bath or just don’t hear her, she can just come on in. He says he’ll tell her. I go outside and rake some leaves and in doing so, realize this dog might actually have a problem. I have never seen this much dog shit in my entire life. It’s a weird colour and there’s just so much of it! I raked half the yard and decided the roommate needs to pick up after his dog before I continue on. 5pm rolls around and she still hasn’t shown up and I haven’t heard from my roommate so I text him again. He texts back saying she did come back, but she didn’t want to just walk in. I call bullshit. I don’t think this bitch ever came back again. And what is she afraid of? Just walk into the fucking house! You’re there to do something ,then do it! And again, that’s the last time I hear from my roommate that night. So I babysit his dog again.

Sunday rolls around, and I’m considering going to Saskatoon with a friend for the night. So I text the roommate to tell him this. He says he’s going to try his friend again. She’s not responding to his calls. Super. He says he’ll come home that night. I decide not to go anywhere so I tell him it’s fine, I will continue watching his dog. And then I tell him my newest discovery, which is that he not only takes giant shits, he runs through them and then tracks shitty footprints into the house. I go out and get drunk and come home and guess what I find? Yep, another shit filled bedroom. I don’t remember much from last night, but I do remember trying not to throw up for reasons that had nothing to do with alcohol.

Oh, Trigger also jumped the fence on Saturday and I finally found him across the street down the back alley. And then he jumped the fence again last night. While I was drunk. Thankfully I noticed before he even got out of the yard and came right back. The cat is constantly in hiding. All of Walter’s toys have been destroyed. I talk more harshly to this dog than I care to because he’s just so fucking annoying and it’s not his fault. My roommate came home 4 hours later than he told me he would today and then was home just long enough to have an argument with his girlfriend, clean up his room, have a quick bath, and then leave again. So this puppy who needs a tremendous amount of attention and exercise is alone in a room, waiting for his dad to get home and love him. I was away for a few hours and let him out for awhile when I got home, but I put him to bed so the cat could come out and eat and have a cuddle with me and so I could have some quiet moments without constantly saying things like, “Trigger!”, “Get out of there!”, “That’s not yours!”, “No!”, “Leave the cat alone!”, “Don’t pee on that!” Just under 3 weeks to go. 3 long, long weeks.

I don’t think I’ve ever written this much about shit before.

The Farmer

I’ve been texting with the farmer every now and again, and last week he was in town for the day. I invited him over after his meeting. He’s definitely a small town guy. Really rough around the edges. Maybe not even just the edges. His big move was grabbing my breast and then blaming it on the dog. Speaking of the dog, Walter is very clingy with me. He doesn’t like being locked in or out of rooms when I’m with someone. So having sex at my house is always a bit of an adventure. Either I shut the door to my bedroom and then he whines and scratches at it the whole time, or I let him in and deal with that. Now, normally I can make him just lay down and leave us alone. But the farmer likes animals, so Walter already had him wrapped around his pretty little paws.

There I am, sucking his dick when I look up and Walter’s face is right next to mine. I don’t know if he wanted to help, or was just wondering what the hell I was doing. Either way, I couldn’t keep going until he moved so I kicked him off the bed. His response was to jump on the bed again, but go around me and cuddle up to The Farmer. So the next time I look up, Walter is curled into his shoulder and they’re both looking down at me. I lost it, I had to stop. I was laughing so hard and slightly weirded out.

The Farmer got on top of me and we started having sex. Guess who joins the party? Baby Kitty! Our weird furry threesome was now a foursome. The cat starts meowing, so while he’s thrusting into me, he also reaches over to pet the cat. Not exactly the pussy his hands should be on. And starts talking to her. Things like, “What’s wrong kitty? Want to look out the window?” My headboard is against the window in my room so he lifts the shade so the cat can sit on the sill and watch outside. What a nice guy, she said sarcastically. So the cat is sufficiently distracted. But what about Walter. He is laying right beside me, trying to lick my face. I push him away and he crawls up closer to the window. So now the cat, the dog, and The Farmer are all enjoying the view out the window while I get to look at the fucking ceiling! Walter gets bored and moves down the bed. He had a surprise for The Farmer. A surprise tongue on his asshole! hahahahahaha  And that’s how having sex in my house works. The queue starts here.