Avant garde, no?

I get home today and my hopefully temporary housemate Dave is waiting for me. There are now 27 empty cans of VB on the kitchen bench, but to be fair some of them have been there for a few days.

So, I say, what did you do today?

Just FYI, gentle readers, the correct answer for Dave to spring forth with would be something along the lines of, oh, I got a job [perhaps as Mufti of Australia?] and I will be getting my own place, thanks very much for your hospitality.

BUT THIS WAS NOT HIS ANSWER.

His answer, in actual fact, was that the singer of a rock band had tweaked his nipple in an erotic dream.

Don't worry, gentle reader, he reciprocated in an erotic fashion.

I said, "I don't really want to know, David" and left to go beat @ndy Slackbastard at Scrabble. Unfortunately, this did not go as planned, on account of @ndy would not allow me to add the prefix ANTI- to the word ZOOS to make ANTIZOOS, which of course is what you are if you do not support the cruelty which is the caging of animals.

It would appear, however, that @ndy Slackbastard LOVES the caging of animals.

What a dick.

P.S. It's time to go, Dave. I know you read this while I am at work, so be warned that if you are still here tomorrow I will stab you with the very nail scissors which you use to cut your nails ON MY BED. It probably wouldn't kill you to pick up the clippings, I suppose, but I can assure you that it WILL kill you when I jam those fucking scissors into your left eyeball and twist them around and then into your right eyeball and twist them around and then into the rest of your face again and again and again and again and again and again and again until there is nothing left of your face but a gory soup.

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