A Letter to A Self-Victimizing Braggart

Dear AJ,

                There are many things you said while under my roof that will never be forgotten, and others that may never be forgiven. Before your behavior took a nosedive, you were happy-go-lucky and social. You didn’t have a problem with any of us… but you couldn’t stop talking about your dick.

                Every woman knows that a man who never shuts up about his penis clearly doesn’t know how to use it and this was finally confirmed about you today, when my friend, who used to also be your friend, admitted to me that she slept with you once… and you lasted all of 30 seconds, tops. You useless, pathetic fuck. When you’re in a good mood, you sit around and brag about this and that—how you can last hours in bed (where are the hours? You couldn’t last a whole minute), how you learned all of these martial arts and you can kick anyone’s ass, how you’re a master swordsman… Oh, and then I find out you’ve tried telling some chick you have a fucking degree in psychology when you’ve never taken college courses to earn any kind of credit. Then, when I put you on blast, you tried to defend your lies by saying, “Oh, I never said it was a legit degree.” You are fucking stupid.

                You deserve to be put on blast for every lie you tell and every shitty thing you’ve done. So, I’ll put you on blast, here.

                Boy, let me tell you, it made me euphoric as hell to watch you approach every friend I introduced you to—and then approach a friend I didn’t introduce you to—and try to slander me to the people with whom I surround myself. Do you honestly think I’d have introduced you to two-faced bitches? Do you think that just because I let you into my home, I make it a habit of forming relationships with psychic vampires or people who will turn on me at the drop of a hat—or the unwelcome knock on their door as you beg them to let you move into their home?

                Oh, yeah, bitch, Dusty told me what you did. You slunk your pathetic, lying, two-faced little ass over to my neighbor Dusty’s house, across the street from my house, and you proceeded to say bad things to him about Randy and me, even though he had told you previously that Randy and I are his friends and he didn’t want to hear you fucking slandering us. He also told us that even if you weren’t a steaming pile of bird shit, he would never have let you move in because he likes to walk around the house naked and you would have ruined that for him. That was amusing, but not as heartwarming as knowing for a fact that you will never turn any of my friends against me. My friends are loyal. That’s why they’re my friends.

                Now, I’ve started school and I’m waiting for February to roll around so I can see those nice, fat housing checks appear in my account each month, while you bum around on the streets, hooking up to library WiFi, continuously spewing your lackluster sob story to whatever poor sap takes two minutes to pay attention to your sorry ass.

                I don’t believe in holding grudges, but nor do I believe in forgetting how someone has treated me and you, dumbass, have treated me exceptionally poorly. You were fucking lucky that Randy wanted to play nice with you because I would have had you out of my home the minute you started throwing your belongings down my stairs. That’s right, bitch. You may have been staying in the upstairs space in my home, but that space is still mine. The house is still mine. I am the lease holder, along with Randy, and it is only Randy’s name on the lease that allowed him to have any say in how long you were allowed under my roof, you sorry sack of unapologetic sewage.

                Your mother tried defending you. I’m not sure if you saw it since you blocked Pat and probably can’t see his status anymore. She came along trying to claim that I let you and Pat move in so I’d have a couple of fresh dicks to ride on. What a fucking joke. I messaged her promptly to correct her on that point and even managed to have a decent back-and-forth with her for a few messages, despite her horrendous grammar and spelling. Where did she learn English? Because that place clearly doesn’t know what the fuck they’re doing. At any rate, your mother may never turn her back on you, since she is your mother, but she isn’t one to make fucking excuses for you, either. I told her all about how you would sit in my house, talking about all of these alleged problems you have, and yet you never once made an effort to go out and get the medication you said you so desperately needed. Not until after you blew up, mocked, and disrespected me in my own home.

                Fuck you. Rot in the streets with hardly your mother to love you as she withers away with her sickness.

(I wish no ill will on his mother. She seems like a perfectly nice person. She is legitimately ill and "AJ" has a habit of making it sound like she's going to die.)