I'm just more brilliant than all of you

Well it is now time to introduce my friend SuperDave. He is an army guy who has (foolishly?) decided to improve my life and turn me into a military-style neat freak. Needless to say all his time in the Secret Service sleeping in snowy holes and eating mud and turning his bare hands into weapons did not prepare him for the mess that is my cottage or my psyche. Originally I had implored Dave to come and do some home improvements for me and he suggested a bulldozer and then I laughed and then I coughed because let’s face it there is a LOT of mould in my house and also a hole. Really, my house doesn't need improving. We are now trying out a “training section” in the house that I have to keep clean. (You can tell which section it is because it’s the messiest one at the moment.)
It’s been a lot of fun because I’m all depressed because DW left me and took all the good furniture and he’s distracting me by doing Secret Servicey things like make fire rubbing two sticks together and showing off his titanium kneecaps and AK-47 bullet wounds. And he's also really freckly so you can sort of play connect the dots with him when he's sleeping but you really aren't supposed to do that because he's all badass and might consider it a threat and then his post-traumatic stress disorder gets triggered and we all die. Luckily I've systematically armed myself to the teeth over the last couple years. But really it’s like having that guy from the Bourne Ultimatum movies come over and make you pasta.

                                                                              *

ME: “So what are you afraid of?”

SD: “I’m not afraid or intimidated by any man or anything.”

ME (cheerfully) : “I bet it’s spiders!”

SD (condescending look)

                                                                          *
ME: “So can you show me how to kill someone with my bare hands?”

SD: “That’s classified.”

ME (whining): “I won’t tell anyone.”

SD: “Why do you want to know?”

ME: “Um...I just want to em...use it for...something.”

SD (condescending look)

                                                                                *
ME: “I’m so much more ghetto and scary than you are. I bet I’ve killed more people. How many people have you killed?”

SD: “Like 157...?”

ME: (thinks) “Pansy.”

SD (condescending look)

                                                                                       *
SD: “You can’t live here. It’s not safe. What if someone breaks in?”

ME: “Oh sure, it’s not safe against BURGLARS. But “if” the zombie apocalypse breaks out, the isolation works to my advantage.”

SD: “I think I know what I’m afraid of now.”


Proving ONCE AGAIN that I am a badass motherfucker.