| Oct. 10th, 2005 @ 08:32 pm Baseball Metaphor |
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Seeeerike one!
you fucked up. lots. ice cream on the floor, couch, walls, counter. lube (aka "duck sauce") on the counter that I prepare meals on. smelly bedroom, double-check. driving Amy nuts, then in turn driving me bonkers. ooh, my friend, you have qualified for a strike.
Seeeeriiiike two!
i asked you, "do you have any plans Monday night?" "no." "we'd like to have a meeting, the three of us, and discuss some issues we're having." "are you kicking me out?" "no. not yet. we have some problems with what's going on and need to discuss it before it escalates to kicking you out. i promise you'll have plenty of notice beofre we kick you out." "so you're not kicking me out?" "no, but you'll be here tomorrow about 6:30, right? should only take 15, 20, 30 minutes tops." "okay."
then you played us like Mom and Dad. "Dad, can I have ice cream?" "no." "Mom, can I have ice cream?" "what did your father say?" "so i can? great! thanks mom"
this is a huge sign of disrespect. fucker.
strike three. you haven't seen this pitch coming yet, but i put the ad back up on Craigslist. you will have a replacement before we kick your ass out when you fuck up again. |