Today as I entered the Harpy’s Nest© (i.e. my “shared” house) I was mauled by the harpy’s malamute puppy. It’s untrained and undisciplined. As I fought my way to the door and groped for my keys, they fell to the ground. When I bent to pick them up the puppy scratched my face. I wrestled with the little demon to recover my keys and unlock the door. I finally got in only to find the harpy and the creepy new roommate sitting right there laughing at me.

“Did you say hello to the puppy?” the harpy screeched.

“The puppy said hello to me.” And I mentally added: You fucking bitch. Thanks for getting off your fat ass and helping me with the door. In fact, why was it locked when you’re both sitting right there.

“That’s why I say pet friendly in the ad. My pets are like my children.”

I was too dismayed by the fact that this woman had reproduced to blurt out a response. Instead, I washed the claw marks on my face and wrote this. Right now a tent in the woods sounds pretty good.

A drink sounds good too but I’m not going to go there. This whole living situation is just another test. Yeah, that’s it. This is just a test, this is just a test, this is just a test….

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