The most amazing thing about houses is that it’s usually pretty easy to know where dog shit might turn up, like on the floor or on the carpet or all over my fucking heart, Kyle. Dogs evolved to shit downwards and not in a toilet, but dating you for two years has taught me that no one can rely on anyone to be consistent about fu-cking-an-y-thing, especially “not” getting back together with your high school sweetheart, Sarah, or whatever the fuck her name is. It’s like you took a giant shit all over our relationship. Well, guess what, Kyle? I still have the keys to your apartment and I am not going to take this lying down. Here are eight places you would never expect to find dog shit but will find dog shit because I PUT it there, Kyle.
1. In Your Bed
Or should I say, OUR bed? I bought you a Tempur-goddamn-Pedic pillow, and you still wanted to leave me for someone with effing freckles?! Right after I took my incredibly comfortable pillow back, I left a steaming pile of dog shit in your horrible, itchy K-fucking-mart sheets. They were shitty anyway…now they’re dog shitty. Do you get it, Kyle?
2. In Your Sperry Top-Siders
You don’t deserve boat shoes. And no way do you get to walk around with Samantha or whatever her name is in the ones I purchased for you with my own hard-earned money. So the next time you want to pretend you’re a yachtsman and slip into your Sperrys, you’ll be the captain of the HMS Dog Shit. Have fun on your “boat”, Kyle. Your scrawny arms couldn’t hoist a sail if they wanted to.
3. On the Thai Food That Was in Your Fridge
Is it hers, Kyle?! Because I sure as hell don’t like Thai food, and you said that it “hurts your tummy,” you weak, farty little liar. Well, whomever it belongs to, it now comes with a free side of Pad Kee Poo.
4. In Your Keurig
Honestly, I was 50-50 on just stealing this. But I decided it was more important to teach you a lesson about life’s nasty surprises, so now your morning brew will have a little extra kick. As the saying goes, “The best part of waking up is dog shit in your cup.” Also I took all your K-cups.
5. On Your Blackberry
Kyle, it’s 2015—who the hell has a Blackberry? You don’t even work in finance, you fucking faker. I’m basically doing Sienna or whatever her name is a favor by covering that stuck-in-the-‘90s piece of crap in a steaming pile of dog shit because someone might see it and think, “Oh no, that iPhone 5 is covered in dog shit.” You’re welcome, Kyle.
6. In Your Matching Crate & Barrel Salt and Pepper Shakers
Oh, did my lemon chicken piccata always need a tad more salt? Well, now when you’re backseat chef-ing Svetlana or whatever her name is, you’ll be adding just un petit peu of shit à la dog. That’s FRENCH, Kyle. That is French.
7. In Every Bottle of Whiskey You Own
I went on so many goddamn whiskey tastings with you and you know NOTHING about whiskey. What’s the difference between single-barrel and blended scotch, you smarmy, uppity snob? They all taste like trash and vomit, and now they also taste like dog shit because I put dog shit in every single bottle on your dumb little whiskey shelf. I hate you, Kyle.
8. In 16 Handles
That was our place, Kyle. And then you had to go and have a Chocolate Love Affair with Susan Sarandon or whatever her name is. Well, bully for you, because your next selfish serving of froyo will be laced with a swirl of steaming dog shit. Also if you try to use our rewards card with her, I will end you. We built those punches together.
So there you have it, Kyle. I officially wipe my hands of you, and of the dog shit I smeared all over your belongings. Fuck you and fuck whatsername.