I gave him eighteen years, thousands in gas money, and more music than he deserved, and all I got in return was a subscription to Fox News– which, by the way, is a complete ******* “thank you” gift because you can fool yourself into believing anything.

        "You know what's going to happen tomorrow? Rain!" when in fact I'm certain its going to be a scorcher.

He sits bedside, making horrible jokes and bringing up remember-that-times. When will he ever pay the rent? Even though he doesn’t sleep here– he never sleeps– he should at least pay me in something other than beheading-dreams. And in the shower we review ****** flaws, and in the mirror we recount all the mean things I ever said or did to him for being such an insufferable *******.

“Stop it.”

He looks uncomfortable, not as sure of himself. He ponders what I meant for a while, opens his mouth to rebut and gets another stop it.

“Stop it. Get a job.” Because he contributes nothing.

“But you should…”

“Stop it. Get a job, because all I’m gaining from us right now is a bunch of lies. Quit watching Fox News.”

“Listen here, ******–“

“Stop it. Get a job. Quit watching Fox News.” And he leaves for a couple hours.





He knocks.

“Stop it.”

The knocking stops.