Two months ago one of my closest friends decided to move from Arizona to the town my sister and I are currently living in. We decided to let her move in with us, though I had some hesitation about what it might do to our friendship. Since day one she has been inconsiderate, entitled and unable to pay bills on time. She cannot shut her mouth about how totally awesome Arizona was, how everything is better in Arizona, it’s a good heat in Arizona blah blah blah. Go the fuck back already. I want to strangle her, but instead I’m writing a letter:
Dear Former Friend,
You have never once said thank you for everything we have done to help with your transition here. You have never thanked me for helping you buy and transport a bed and driving you all around town. You have never thanked us for letting you use everything in our house, and I mean everything, since you moved here with three suitcases of clothes and that’s it. You have made repeated backhanded negative comments about the house and our neighborhood. I’m sorry your bedroom doesn’t have a window, but in case you didn’t notice, I didn’t actually build this house bitch. But these things alone do not cause my intense hatred of you. It’s the rest of this shit:
*You are entirely focused on finding a husband/boyfriend. You have taken up hobbies like tennis and golf because these are sports you have decided boys like and your involvement in them is with the sole intent to find someone to like you. I am depressed for you.
*You are an obsessive stalker who creeps the facebook page of any boy who pays you attention. There is no degree of attention that is too little for you to engage in the stalking. After an hour of interaction with a boy you then wrote all over your notebook: Your first name followed by his last name. Really? After one tennis match? You’re fourth grade married now? We were terrified when we saw this.
*You were unable to open a bank account or set up a wireless account without asking your Mom and Dad how. There were several phone conversations spanning several days and yet you still seemed confused. Last time I checked your were 32. Even if you invert the numbers it still makes you legally retarded
*Picking your feet skin and popping your hairy chest zits on my couch. Clipping your toenails on my ottoman. FLOSSING YOUR TEETH WHILE SITTING ON THE COUCH. Having the nerve to get pissy when I tell you what every civilized person in the world already knows: not acceptable anywhere but your bedroom or your bathroom. Fucking foul.
*When you kept wanting my sister’s baby to be retarded even after the ultrasound proved he was healthy. Literally like you had tourettes about asking the question and wanting it to be true.
*Quick tutorial: When you run out of something, you buy more. There are no loopholes here you worthless bottom feeder. If you use the last of MY shit, you replace MY shit.
*You are so convinced that your hair looks way more super awesome after only washing it every third day that you completely disregard showering the rest of your body and not to mention THAT FUCKING STENCH THAT PERMEATES YOUR PERSONAL SPACE AND MINE TOO. By day 2 1/2 you smell like decaying flesh. You have now stunk up all of my throw pillows with your dirty head and the stank from your room creeps out from under the door and fogs the whole hallway. How in the hell do you sleep in that bedroom, Linus?!? Jesus Christ are your nostrils broken? I CAN TASTE YOUR FUNK IN MY THROAT.
*re: the Smell- So, wait. No one have ever liked you enough to tell you about your “scent”? You don’t even have one friend who cares about you enough to say, “Hey, take a shower, you smell?” It would be funny if it wasn’t haunting my house.
*re: the Smell pt. 2- Do you think the lack of a relationship between your body and water could be the reason why your skin is literally grey? Do people still get scurvy? Isn’t that yellow anyway? Seriously, for the amount of time you spend on the internet you would think you might have happened across WebMD or DiagnoseMe.
*Oh wait. You don’t wash your face.
*When you brought up how much you missed and would like to reconnect with my ex-boyfriend who was arrested for beating me up (while you were eating the dinner I was buying for you) on just the second day you were in town, I should have packed your four belongings and put them on the curb. When you continued, over the next two months, to make comments about how women in abusive relationships are somehow asking for it, I reminded myself that no one has ever loved you and that your romantic life consists of practicing mantras from the Secret.
*Haha. You’ve never had an orgasm. Hahaha. God hates you.
* “I’m REALLY good at sex.” -You, right after telling me you’ve never had an orgasm. WHY do you insist on making it so hard for me not to laugh in your face?
*Back to the smell: I’ve seen you do 2 HALF loads of laundry in the past month. And you wait until we are doing a load so you don’t have to use your detergent.
*Why exactly do you have tweezers in the shower? I think I know the answer and it starts with Ingrown and ends with Hairs. The middle word is Vagina. Every time I wash my hair I have to stare at those things. So help me God, if those tweezers ever even accidentally come in to contact with my skin I will throw you in front of a train.
*Does every story you tell have to involve some guy liking you or staring at you or calling you pretty? You even tell me when homeless guys call you hot. You being able to say this is usually the whole point of the story, too. Is this like when fat middle aged women chant over and over again: “I am good enough. I am worthy.” before going on their match.com dates? They’re not and you’re not. Pretty, that is.
*Also every topic you ever bring up with either of us is just a vehicle to make a passive aggressive comment or to subtly talk shit. Because you’re a fucking pussy who can’t ever say anything outright. There are just too many to list here but what follows is my personal favorite:
You: “Wow! You look skinny! Have you lost a bunch of weight? How much weight? How much do you weigh?”
Me: “Uh, I don’t know maybe a few pounds. I think I still weight about 120 pounds.”
You: “Gee! How much were you at your heaviest? 200 pounds? Hahah!”
See you managed to call me fat and skinny at the same time. For the record I have never weighed more than 135 pounds you manhanded cunt.
*When you bitched and moaned about your sunburn for a week, even suggesting with a completely straight face that you “had 3rd degree burns” and should probably be on “pain medication.” Oh piss off.
*No money to pay bills, but magically, always money to go out! Granted, paying bills may not get you any closer to finding a boyfriend, but not paying bills will certainly get you closer to my fist in your face.
*Your constant bitching about the thermostat setting. It is literally one hundred degrees outside and you’re all “ooo brrr shiver” curled up in a blanket because the air is set to 72. Then you walk around wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants in smug defiance like you’re a black panther at the Olympics holding up a fist during the national anthem. Way to stick it to the man.
*You tried to bring up every possible bad case scenario about my new job, a job I very much wanted and love. You trashed it because you make ten dollars an hour and you are full of hate.
*You are jealous of everything we have and everything we’ve done. You negate every experience that isn’t your own though you lived with your parents until you were 27.
*You threw a fit when I asked you to clean JUST ONE TIME and then you sobbed for an hour. I am not your mother and I am sick of cleaning up after your filthy ass.
*You even make backhanded comments about our parents who, while admittedly asshole-ish are not poor and miserable. Like your parents.
*You wear a retainer to bed.
*You pout when I turn the channel from the Golden Girls or Hallmark Channel because those are your faves.
*You had a 6 inch long mole removed from your back two weeks ago. You had the audacity to volunteer me to change your scabby wound dressing every day. As you have no friends it was either me or hiring someone from craigslist. Then you ask me to keep an eye out for pockets of pus like you want me to barf all over your back. Giving me the silent treatment when I tell you there is no way in hell I will help you by removing the stitches when the times comes will not change my mind. You are a disgusting bitch.
You move out in 8 days. I can’t wait to never talk to you again.
I am lying and calculating? You better take a look in the mirror bitch! You are a piece of work. But you knew that already, huh?
