2004-02-09

First things first: David Bowie! David Bowie David Bowie David Bowie! David Bowie is coming to Ottawa! And I am going to see David Bowie! David Bowie is coming to Ottawa practically on my birthday! This is clear evidence of David Bowie�s love for Robin! Robin�s love for David Bowie is deep, true and undying! David Bowie!

Moving on.

My sister�s latest romantic misadventure has drawn to a lurid and sudden end, much to my complete lack of surprise. A quick chronological rundown:

1) Yes, this is the same guy who barged into my bedroom in the dead of night.

2) (Fucking turd-monkey retard fuck.)

3) Sister continues to insist that Home Invader is �really a good guy,� despite his demonstrated tendency for home invasion and several other factors that point clearly to his status as Asshole Supremo, not limited to the following: a) Still living with the mother of his two-year-old daughter, purportedly as �roommates.� b) Mysteriously unable to receive calls at home, despite protestations that his ex is fully aware of his attachment to Sister. c) Repeatedly � nay, constantly breaks plans and/or shows up egregiously late, offering no logical explanation for this behaviour. d) Mysteriously unable to spend the night.

4) At this point, DUH. He is obviously fucking his ex. The dog has figured out that he is fucking his ex. The local news media announce nightly that �We�ll probably have a few overnight flurries, oh, and by the way, HE�S FUCKING HIS EX.�

5) Sister denies any possibility that he is fucking his ex.

6) Sister announces plans to marry Home Invading Ex-Fucker. Congratulations are withheld in favour of extensive eye-rolling.

7) Shifty behaviour continues, culminating in Sister�s inevitable phone confrontation with putative �ex.� Ex reveals that � surprise! � he is still fucking her, as evidenced by the fact that she is PREGNANT.

8) Ha ha ha! Robin tries to resist urge to say �I told you so� and categorically fails.

9) Sister gets loudly drunk on Sunday night.

So that�s the status of things. Sis insists on being heartbroken rather than relieved, refusing to learn from my manifest wisdom, to wit: being single is the ideal state of being, and furthermore, is the shit. Relationships lead to crying on the phone. Being single, on the other hand, leads to brief-but-torrid liaisons with aging British glam rockers. At least, that�s what I�m counting on. Bowie!