I'm paying a friend to let me sleep in his bed. It's big enough for the two of us, which is why my mother is so upset. She doesn't think I should have to go to prostitutes.
"What about that cute girl you used to go with?" she asks.
"Go with?" I ask. Incredulously. "What about her?" Well, the truth behind the fiction is that she's gone, and I miss her terribly. But when I cry, I cry man tears. See, it's not that I want to upset my mother, but she just doesn't understand. I got it good in my HamCo apartment. I have a big bed to sleep in.
The other day I spent the whole day in bed reading Harry Potter 5. Good read, good read. The thing about spending the whole day in bed is that I didn't get out of bed. That's the key. I've tried to do it before, but it gets all screwy when I get out. So there I am, not getting out of bed, when one of my roommates walks in and asks if I want to go to the track.
"Do you want to go to the track?" So I respond that I don't because I'm spending the whole day in bed. "I don't because I'm spending the whole day in bed." He tells me that that was expected. See, the thing about going to the track with one of my roommates is that I'm Catholic, and I don't gamble. I don't know why I follow that rule, no gambling. I don't even know if it's against the Catholic faith, but what I do know is that it's a good excuse to not go to the track with one of my roommates. Besides, I was lying comfortably in a big bed.
So, I don't gamble because I'm Catholic, but I eat meat on Fridays during Lent, and I have pre-marital relations with people who are not my spouse. My mother still doesn't think I should have to go to prostitutes. She raised me Catholic, though, so the blame lies with her. I'd like to have a girl, sure, but the guilt is tremendous. God tempts me with cute girls when I'm at mass. It brightens up what would otherwise be another boring sermon for Him.
So I'm paying a friend to let me sleep in his bed, but he doesn't know that I'm paying him to use all of his stuff when he's not there. Well, he does now, but he doesn't know that I used his regular orange-handle scissors to cut my toenails because my toenail clippers are in storage. Well, he does now. I also stored away my tool kit, so I couldn't get the wrench I needed to screw the top off of the salt shaker and refill it with salt.
If you've ever spent the whole day in bed, you know that it's boring, like playing poker with amateurs. Texas Hold 'Em, baby, with that cute girl I used to go with. I never let her win, but she always beats me. Although my mother doesn't think I should have to go to prostitutes.
