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The Book Of Loathing, Chapter 16,489
So it�s official, I have psychic powers. Yes, Dear Reader, my hunch was correct. Again. My two roommates (my younger Brother E and his chick [or whatever] Ir) are indeed going to move out of my apartment at the beginning of September, leaving me with a mere 300% increase in living expenses. Huzzah! E was very nice about it, since he�d probably rather stay if that harpy didn�t have him by his short n� curlies. I was fascinated by the fact that he alone talked to me about this, but I guess that�s no real surprise. Ir is the kind of girl who likes to deal with men one-on-one, in a maximally manipulation-conducive setting. She�s certainly not interested in talking rationally with two men who are brothers, one of whom is gay and so not impressed with her boobies. So E comes and explains to me that they really want to have A (Ir�s eight-year-old illegitimate daughter, who lives with her current legal guardian, her grandmother) with them �a lot more� (which I suppose means having her live with them, since she already stays with us about four nights a week as matters stand). My favorite part was how E made it all sound so reasonable and responsible and upright. �We really would like to have A with us more.� It almost sounded like something other than Ir dragging her daughter into an apartment where she�s shacking up with a man she�s not married to to assuage her guilt over being an absent mother while she was in the slammer. Almost. Oh, the other fun part was when E assured me that he would �help me out financially� if I needed it. I wonder what planet he lives on. Help me out? With what? The bountiful harvest from the money tree he�s got growing in the courtyard of his castle in the clouds? I have had to �help him out� over and over again since we�ve lived together, and in fact, he�s just getting on his feet from his most recent financial bottom-out, a recovery facilitated by the addition of I�s income to his personal fiscal �mix�. Anyway. Now that I�ve spurted all that bile, I must say that it will be nice to live alone again. I never minded living with E, but I have grown less and less fond of Ir as time has gone by. She�s the kind of girl who�s waaaaay to busy with her personal grooming routines to ever, like, pick up a dish or make a sandwich. No longer will I have to clean up her mess. No longer will I have to listen to her blasting KTFM�s trashy tunes while she takes a six-hour shower. No longer will I have to listen to A whining about how she wants to watch cartoons while she sucks on milk befouled by �Incredible Hulk�-themed chocolate syrup. (Yes, Dear Reader. It�s green. A violent, nightmarish shade of green.) I won�t have them eating through my groceries like locusts, only to move on to spend their own money at restaurants when they�ve picked my pantry clean. And I can bring home the mens!! Woo hoo! Okay, so perhaps that�s not the most exciting reason why, but still. One does think of the possibility.
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