this haunts me
Mouta's brother once, while visiting Canada from China, bought macaroni salad at Walmart and microwaved it. And then he ate it.
Mouta's brother once, while visiting Canada from China, bought macaroni salad at Walmart and microwaved it. And then he ate it.
Back when I was in my twenties, living in a cockroach infested house with some guys, I gave myself an unfortunate nickname. One of my roommates was doing a school project that required him to collect a large quantity of expired condoms.
He came home and plopped a bag of condoms on the kitchen table, and announced, "These are all expired, so don't try to use them."
Then he looked right at me.
"Why did you look at me?" I asked.
"I didn't! I looked at everyone, I just looked at you at the end."
"What am I, some kind of turbo slut? Like I can't keep my grubby hands off your pile of expired condoms?"
And for the rest of the year, everyone called me 'Turbo Slut'.
This has to happen organically. I want someone to toss something to me, but aim poorly, and have the item hit my groin region. Then I shout, "Ow! Right in the nuts!"
When my brother moved out, I decided it was an unnecessary task. I just dump it all in and it lands where it lands. I refer to it as my "cluttlery drawer".
This conversation happened twenty years ago.
Back in university, a roommate of mine (who had never suffered from low self-esteem) was going through a difficult break up. Difficult for the guy, that is. My roommate herself, was doing quite well.
roommate: I'm just worried he might do something extreme. He's in a really dark place right now.
me: You don't think he'd ...kill himself, do you?
My roommate then locked eyes with me, and said firmly, "Me, Thea. He lost ME. What would you do?"
So I reassured her that I would, in fact, kill myself if I ever lost her.
If you go to Dolar Hot Pot, they will offer you a bib.
Do not. Accept. The bib. It is a trap.
That is all.