Living After Midnight

Mr. No-Brain is now sleeping at his workplace some days during the week. He apparently stays at his workplace drinking all night then sleeps all day in a storage room there...no kidding. Unfortunately I never know in advance when he's coming home so I'm still sleeping on the street every night. I guess his friend who gave him the pity job doesn't mind Bob hanging out there all night bombed. Bob has a computer to use at work and a chair, that pretty much covers his necessities. He drinks while he's working as he usually reeks of booze when he comes home at 1am.

Tonight the scumbag came home at 9pm with his usual 30 pack. He'll start pounding sometime after midnight. I still haven't found out anything about his legal troubles. They must be contacting him at work.

I still have a pimple on my nose. It ain't going away, it seems to be permanent. I finished the antibiotics today. It sort of hardened up after taking the pills but then it puffed up again a few days later. It's really freaking me out. I think it's stress related. I started taking some Xanax everyday but that's not helping. It's been almost 2 months now. Life sucks, then it sucks worse.

Contacting The Dead

Today the walking vegetable slept all day until 6pm. He took a shower then went out for his 30 pack of Extra Gold and a pizza. He just cracked open his first cold one now.

Tonight I attempted communicating with the vegetable. Communicating with Bob is frustrating to say the least, he only says a few words then walks away. What he says is always his fantasy version of reality or lies, not sure which is which with him. I noticed the shut off notice came from the phone company today. (The shut off notice comes in a regular size envelope, easily distinguished from the monthly statement). I really need the phone line this week as I have a lot of stuff on eBay.

Anyway, I encountered the Zombie in the kitchen as he was getting his first beer. I asked him if he could please pay it before it's shut off

this time. I tried to explain how if you pay before it's shut off, they won't shut it off, that's the whole point of the shut off notice. The Space Cadet just smiled and says "I always do" as he walks away. That's about all you can get out of him. Bob seems to have forgotten the other 8 times it was shut off before. He probably still won't pay it. I really f*cking hate this asshole.

More Beer, Less Brain

So last night I get woken up at 3am when the brainless scumbag has one of his 20 minute sneezing fits. I laid awake for another hour hearing him knocking cans on the floor. At 4am I knocked on his door, "Oh Bob, mind if I get some sleep?". Bob is just sitting in his chair smiling, totally bombed, smoking a Pall Mall. I get his usual look of amazement as he squints and checks the time on his computer. He's supposed to be at work at 10am.

There's really nothing that can be done. I've blown up at him in the middle of the night more times than I can count. I've screamed at him, threatened to bash his f*cking empty head open, threatened to call the cops, even tried asking nicely for some sanity...nothing gets through. His destiny is living under a bridge somewhere with his belongings in a shopping cart.

So this morning the scumbag gets up at 9:50am and runs out the door without showering. He hasn't bathed in 3 days. He'll sleep for a few hours when he gets off work, then it'll be another night of the living dead.