Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Merry Fucking Christmas!

If you’ve read my entire blog, you know all about TheBitches. They’re the 3 crazy-ass ho-bags that TheNurse and I lived with for 3 unfortunate years. I don’t even know how to begin to describe how crazy those douches were, but you can always read “The Pros and Cons of Living Alone” to get an idea. As it stands, TheNurse and I have not seen or spoken to one of them since the god-graceful day that we moved out. If I see one of them on the street, I just keep walking. The last time I communicated with them, it was to fight my ass off to get one of them to send me a cheque for $7.00 that they owed me. Then I waited 6 months, until Xmas eve, to cash it. I’m a treat that way.

They are blocked from our msn lists but not our memories. And one of my favourite memories that exemplifies just how ridiculous they were is a warming holiday tale. It takes place mid-December, 2004. The setting: a dilapidated TheShanty in the middle of the ghetto.

At the time, things in TheShanty were already bad. They had begun a steady decline after about the first month of living together, and by this time TheBitches mainly communicated with TheNurse and I through passive-aggressive notes left on the white-board in the hall. TheNurse actually had to physically stop me from tearing down the board and smashing it over my knee more than once. Here is an example of a note that might be left for TheNurse and me:

“Can we PLEASE remember to do our chores this week????!!! The amount of dirt on the floor is DISGUSTING. It is RIDICULOUS. We don’t seem to be remembering to follow the counter-clockwise motion of the chore-wheel and finishing the chores by 3pm on Wednesday. It is now 3:30 and the floors STILL have not been swept!! This is UNACCEPTABLE!! Also, can we PLEASE remember to shut the door quietly?? We don’t seem to realize that when we aren’t careful, we can hear the door being shut. This disturbs those of us who are sleeping or studying. This is UNACCEPTABLE!! Thanks, TheBitches.”

Note the royal “we” and the use of capital letters for emphasis. And the 'thanks' thrown in at the end to make them feel better about themselves. Also note that we would be sitting in the next room as one of TheBitches wrote this note. It wasn’t that we weren’t home; the white-board was just their preferred mode of communication. Because direct confrontation would be too mature of a concept.

Some other background information that you might find helpful is that, at this time, TheNurse and I both had fairly serious boyfriends (me with FauxHawk, and her with her ex who I shall name TheTool) and all of TheBitches were single. This angered them, and I am sure that they spent many long nights knitting and discussing how unfair that was while TheNurse and I were off having sex.

So, it was almost Christmas, TheBitches were lonely, the only form of communication between us took place on a white-board, and the floors were not acceptably clean. This was a bad time for TheBitches, who were obsessed with cleanliness. TheNurse and I could tell that they were planning something. They seemed to be huddling more often than usual, and conversations stopped when we entered rooms that they were in. Well, that usually happened anyway, but this time we could feel the nervous tension in the air. Ah yes, something was a-buzz. But what?

I think the saddest thing in the world, aside from Hillary Duff’s new veneers, is when people make plans specifically aimed to make someone feel left out – and then they realize that the person could care less, has better things to do, and that, basically, they are lame-ass suckers. Poor TheBitches.

TheNurse and I were out drinking with our boyfriends one night, and we stopped home quickly to change. When we entered the house we saw xmas decorations, heard xmas music, and, best of all, saw TheBitches in the living room, whine-holes stuffed with gingerbread, with a sad little gingerbread house spread out in front of them and smug looks on their faces. YES! ThePeach and TheNurse caught us excluding them from our little pj-clad xmas party on a Saturday night! They must be so jealous! And angry!

We laughed our asses off. Later, they hid the gingerbread house in one of their rooms so we wouldn’t eat any. Oh no! No gingerbread for us! I guess we’ll have to get our satisfaction from all the sex we’re having and from the joy of having real friends and lives! And souls!

The next day, all of their msn names were statements like “Christmas came to TheShanty!”, “Merry Christmas, TheShanty!”, and “Santa visited TheShanty!”. They had each hung stockings on the outside of their doors and put little presents in them. And they kept talking in loud voices right outside our rooms (note: my room was on a different level from the rest of theirs…they actually came downstairs and gathered outside my door) about how great their presents were and how much fun they were having. Again, we laughed our asses off. This was just getting sad. Did they really think we cared?

In a final attempted insult, the clean-freak OCD windex-nazis left *gasp* gingerbread crumbs in the living room. Not only in the living room, but on *gasp* my couch. THEY BURN!!! THE CRUMBS – THEY BURN MY SOUL!!! No wait – I don’t fucking care. I gave it one more night before one of them crept downstairs at 2am, sobbing, and vacuumed the shit out of the couch. And then, rocking on her heels, scrubbed her skin off in the shower to get rid of the germs. That, or one of the giant mice that occupied the shanty would take care of it.

But, because I liked to egg them on, I left a passive-aggressive note on the white-board:

“Hello TheBitches! Can we PLEASE make sure to clean up our mess left on my couch? Thanks! The Peach.”

The squeak of the dry-erase pen perked the ears of TheBitches, and one of them came tumbling down the stairs as soon as I was done, gingerbread house remnant in paw. The remnant was transferred to the whine-hole, and the squeak of the dry-erase pen grated on my soul:

“Dear ThePeach, I’m SO sorry that we didn’t clean OUR crumbs from OUR gingerbread from OUR party off YOUR couch. Can we PLEASE try to be a little more mature about this situation????!!! Don’t be bitchy just because you’re jealous that you weren’t invited!! TheBitches.”

Beautiful. Now they were all riled up. I could hear her scrambling back upstairs to tell the rest of them what I’d done. And also probably to stuff her gob with more gingerbread. That’s right, eat your feelings. And then wonder why you didn’t make cheerleading this year.

TheNurse came out of hiding in her room, went to look at the white-board, came back to my room, and we laughed our asses off. Then we went out with our friends. TheBitches stayed in, plotting new ways to piss us off, pre-writing new notes for the white-board, and calling their moms to cry.

Merry Fucking Christmas!

This is why I now live alone.

ThePeach

5 comments:

ThePilot said...

You played right into their hands there, cap'n. A proper squeaky-board response would have been "I know and I'm still hurt that I wasn't invited to your knitting party on account of all the great sex I was having at the time. With my boyfriend who is in med school. And has a future. You may have heard of those." followed by a strategic retreat into your room to listen to the wailing and gnashing of teeth that followed.

Also, you need to use the word 'gnashing' more often.

Sincerely,

ThePilot.

The Peach said...

I'll take that into consideration. I like words that start with G.

TheNurse said...

I love living alone, I love living alone!

Tigercat said...

Having lived with one of the bitches for a summer, I can totally vouch for the pathetic nature of the bitches ... and I only lived with one! The white board was used throughout the summer with much gusto. I would come home from a long day at work (note - I worked one shift a week for about 3 hours lol) to messages such as "we need to be doing our dishes everyday and if they are not done by tonight I will put the dirty dishes on your bed" We found this hilarious. Thank god it was the peach and me against one of thebitches .. I couldn't have handled another!

Tigercat

theHubby said...

I think you made a tiny mistake...they don't have paws, like puppies and kittens, they have hooves like fat pig/satan hybrids.