Ex-boy welcomed in the new year by taking a short cut off the path on the 8-mile hike and finding satan who then crawled under his skin in hopes of doing dirty deeds. The devil’s now seeping out in the form of this (okay, after a colleague complaint, warning that there is an ass-shot that may or may not be mine in that link b/c really you can’t prove it b/c there is no face attached.) And it’s deeeesgusting. I’ve kicked him out of my apartment several times but despite my efforts a patch has popped up near my belly button. Except the devil knows goodness cannot be contaminated b/c it isn’t spreading or leaking or causing serious shame like ex-boy’s is.
I feel kind of bad because I have to explain to Jack why his father figure will soon have to be replaced for a cleaner model that isn’t leaking fluid from the arm. But also because I can see the look of dirty across ex-boy’s face. He sits on my couch with a look of self-disgust like he wants to boil himself in rubbing alcohol and sterilize anything he has touched. So I tell him to leave. Because what he needs to now learn is that I feel that same way once a month for 5-7 days because god felt I spited him so.