can anyone say the 'c' word...?

so after a delightlful, restful and tummyful break in san francisco over the weekend i was forced to return to temperatures 35 degrees lower, a heavily laden inbox and a rather scandalous account of a girl really screwing over a buddy of mine. as we all know, mardi gras in new orleans is a time for drinking, dancing and general debauchary and, for one friend of mine, a time for meeting -at least at the time she appeared as such- the perfect girl. hailing from louisiana, this girl had the cute southern drawl, a vivacious persona and a pair of gazoonkas that star jones would be proud of.

however, the first alarm bell went off in my ever pellucid head when i was informed, about 6 weeks after the creole adventure, that miss mardi gras was relocating her 28 year old ass to new york, more specifically into my bud's apartment. alright i say, let's let it slide for now, maybe she's up for some adventure, needs a place to crash for a while and is keeping the man happy in the four post inn. this set of circumstances continues for a few months, and gradually, thanks to several nights out, some tete-a-tete interchanges with said louisiana exile and many reports from said bud my opinion of the lady in question went from 'new-in-town southern belle' to 'kicked-out-trailer-park free loader'.

it subsequently transpired that this conniving trollop was not only offering zero green towards rent, bills or any other expenditures but that she accepted, or should i say, expected an all expenses sojourn in ireland for a month over christmas! the poor guy hadn't seen home in near four years and he had to endure his welcome home hugs with lurchio hovering nearby!

so, it needn't be said, but i, and many more concerned friends were recommending, for some time, all sorts of ways of severing the link with this harbinger of bankruptcy and my friend had finally reached a point of realization where he knew it must happen soon. little was i to know the events would unfold while i was kickin back with a couple of sierra nevadas in a hot tub 2 and half thousand miles away. anyway, i called mister lightpocket this morning for a quick catch up on the local weekend news and he proceeds to inform me of a blazing hot fight with miss loafer on saturday that prompted him to persue a night of drinking, a drunken hook up with some bit on the LES and finally a bedroom stumble-in at 7am sunday.

my man is a dedicated athlete it must be said and amazingly hauled his toxic carcass out of bed and off to football practice at 9am....when he returned at 12pm....tired, dirty, sore, broke and very likely at the end of his frayed rope he finds what? an apartment, wonderfully relieved of the personage of "short-of-arm-deep-of-purse" and also his tv, dvd player, play-station and myriad other objects including footwear and other articles of clothing given to him as gifts over the last year...

let that soak in folks...

what a prize fucking bitch!...not happy with living rent free, ten minutes from manhattan....trips to lake george, ac, ireland and others, no financial input in terms of apartment accoutrements...a guy who doted after her for months till the inevitable white trash virus started to ooze out of her greazy, southern fried pores...now, i know people will consider him a pussy for ever letting it get as bad as it did...but i assure you he's not...he may have been duped but girls have the power to do that...even trailer park, banjo plucking, "ma mom's ma sistuh" ones.....c@*t!!!!