i had a dream #3 found my myspace page and left me a comment. this was somewhat frightening since i don't usually remember my dreams. the comment was something to the effect of "i didn't know you had a blog".
i'm pretty sure her passive-aggressive ass ratted me out for having the colonel. now i'm sitting here wondering if i have to give my cat away because of her childish inability to speak to someone with a penis. i already apologized once this week for having a y chromosome; i'm not doing it again.
so in the name of releasing a bit of roommate tension, here is my open letter to #3:
i'm sorry you have male issues #3 but that isn't my problem. just because the colonel didn't want to sleep with you isn't reason to try to take him away from me. i mean, none of my friends want to sleep with you, are you going to complain to the landlord about them too? hell, none of your friends want to sleep with you...what are you going to do about that? huh? i know that wishing you would die is like hoping that a person with developmental issues fails a reading test, but i can't help it.
i know words like 'die' and 'kill' are thrown around quite a bit these days, but really, you suck and i hope you keel over. i hope your nightly binge on yellowtail and diet coke leads to acute cirrhosis or better yet a massive brain aneurysm.
just please don't have it in the house because i don't want you to expect sympathy from me in one of those 'we-never-liked-each-other-but-i-held-her-ever-so-gently-as-she-died-in-my-arms' kind of moments. i mean...it's bad enough that i have to feel like crap for hating you in the first place, please don't make me feel like a monster for not comforting you in your last seconds.
