When your estranged cousin Sal shows up on your doorstep with nothing to his name but a patchily shaved kitten and a bottle of peppermint schnapps, you should call the cops. But then you risk Sal tattle-taling about the time the two of you poured CLR in the shepherd’s pie at the old people’s home and killed Mrs. Rosenberg (hence the estranged). So, there’s really nothing left to do but take in the dirty schmuck and hope for the best.
And by best we mean hemorrhoids rubbing against your eggshell EKTORP couch, bowls of congealed oatmeal crust littered all over your bathtub, and Lithuanian man-on-centaur porn popping up on your macbook like a University of Phoenix hotmail blast. And for what? A chance at reconciling with Auntie Kiki and an occasional hit of PHG’s PCP? Not on our watch.
When two days turns into two years and couch monster hasn’t paid a cent, nor offered you a free accupuncture session, it’s time to send an eviction notice. May we suggest overnight delivery to the larynx. It’s just as cheap as regular mail and comes with free tracking.
Your couch is going to smell strange. She has been sitting there motionless drinking her starbucks water for days.
You should probably flip that cushion when she leaves.
YES!