The. Baron. Is. A. Twat

Breathe deeply. In, out, in out. And relax. And then put cat shit in his shoes.

Stupid bastard is going to a ball tonight (I was invited but politely declined). To make himself beautiful, he decided to shave his head. Would have been ok if he didn't start at three this morning. I woke up when he put the light on, and then started to hoover up the hair. Inconsiderate shit.

So at 7am, his alarm goes off. No response. I don't have to get up, so I batter him. No response. When I whack him in the bollocks, he stirs.

He finally gets up. I roll over and savour having a whole bed (I pretend the three cats lying around me aren't there). Idiot Boy turns on the light. The light blinds me again- when I get up I turn the light downstairs on so as not to disturb him, because I am a Nice Person. No such consideration for me. Not content with destroying my retina's and my chances of getting back to sleep, the Baron proceeds to huff and puff and try to blow the bed down.

"Where is my white shirt?"

"You don't have a white shirt. Now fuck off and let me sleep"

"But I need a white shirt. I can't go without a white shirt. What shall I do?"

"Wear mine then, you stupid twat."

"I'll have to buy one. Can you drive me to work?"

"Piss off and die, you stupid arse."

"I need some money"

End result I am dragged from my nice warm bed to take him to work. It's either that, or have to go tomorrow to retrieve his car, because I'll be lucky if he is conscious when he gets back, let alone sober.

As a rule, I don't drive if he is a passenger, because he is the most annoying passenger in the world. He goes mental if I go one mile over the speed limit, and if there is less than a two mile gap between me and the car in front, he practically has a nervous breakdown right there in the front seat. See my point?

So he starts almost as soon as we set off. After three miles, I told him to get out and walk. I don't have much patience with his behaviour in the car, and three miles was all I could take of his incessant moaning and shouting and swearing. He thinks he can comment on my driving when he sees fit, but heaven help anyone who comments on his driving! He drives like an old woman. Slow and erratic, and I am surprised that no-one has actually got out (wouldn't take long to catch him up!) and punched him. I would.

Anyway. I tell him that I am going home, so if he wants to get to work he'd better get out. He doesn't move. I turn around and head for home. He starts yelling that he will be fired if he is late again and that I have a terrible temper. Look who is doing all the shouting, darlin'!

He then tells me it is my fault that he is late all the time. I try to point out that I might make him late today, but the other days he is late that have lead to trouble at work are all his own doing. Apparently, I am very wrong. It is my fault that he is always late, because I don't wake him up in time. Riiiiiiiiight.

He is nearly 27, but still needs to be woken up in the morning. It is my fault, even when I am not there, that he can't hear an alarm clock and so sleeps all day. Nothing to do with the fact that he goes to bed at 3AM every morning. Not his responsibility at all. The fact that I can get myself up and negotiate 60 miles of motorway and still get to work on time has been lost on him.

I decide that it will be quicker to turn back around and get him the hell out of my car, and my day. I ignore his yelling about my blatent speeding, cutting up of slow lorries and general getting annoyed with idiots who get in my way, and get him to work with ten minutes to spare. And tell him to fuck off out of my car.

I haven't heard from him since. Thankfully, because I don't have anything nice to say to him. He will be back some time early in the morning, so that is another fucked night of sleep and another morning I won't be able to sleep in. Yet another Baron ruined weekend. But imagine the hell that breaks loose if he thinks that his Thursday morning lie in will be interrupted. No - he must be allowed to enjoy his day off, but that doesn't extend to my days off because I have to clean and tidy. He won't - its his day off, and that as we already know, is sacred.

Piss to him.

Comments

Men... ((hugs))

It sounds like you drive perfectly normal to me. hehe
Katie | Email | Homepage | 01.10.04 - 1:42 pm | #

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Thanks. I think I drive fine too.
Anonymous | Email | Homepage | 01.10.04 - 2:15 pm | #

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