If Megan talks to her mother once a day she talks to her mother ten times a day. It’s insane! The conversations are always the same, too. Megan drones on and on about which C-list celebrity she met. Which boutique she likes. And her mother seems to have a one-track mind. “Did he take you to the bank and put you on the signature card, yet?” Goldigging bitch! The mother is so white trash you can almost imagine a car in her front yard up on blocks and the new TV on top of the old TV in the living room. She’s trying to get Megan to convince Craig to turn the basement into a mother-in-law suite which sucks b/c that’s where I’m staying now. Needless to say if this does happen, Operation Craigan is screwed.
The other night I was looking through the garbage can (my staff of paid interns refuse to do this) and I found a Home Pregnancy Test. Looks like Megan’s trying to get pregnant. The stick was blue. I’m gonna guess that means she isn’t pregnant which is good news for us. I also found a half-eaten Strawberry Pop Tart. I wish they’d start buying the Blueberry ones.
In other Ferguson news: Guapo and his longtime girlfriend Rebecca broke up. He’s a mess. I swear I had nothing to do with this. Craig’s thinking of painting the house, there’s root rot in the Dutch Elm tree out back, and there might be a mold problem up in the attic. This house is a mess. Are you sure you wanna live here?
I’d write more but I’m kind of tired. I’m not sleeping too well. Apparently, your need for Lunesta is contageous.
Sorry for the delay, I’ve been despondent over the Guapo, Rebecca breakup, I haven’t been able to drag myself out of bed.
I’ve a small favor to ask you. If possible, can you start slowly rearranging the furniture, and screw up the towels a bit here and there? Let’s make Megan feel she’s coming down with a touch of the crazies. Craig doesn’t much go for that kind of thing. We’ll get her all loony, he’ll have to get her all looped up on sedatives and enter Amanda…stage left.
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