[ WP ] It 's New Years Eve . Your best friend died in September , you 've been robbed twice , your girl friend is leaving you , you 've just lost your job and the only one left to talk to is a gay burglar you 've got tied up in the kitchen . P.S . Your cat is dead .

I sat down on the chair opposite of Him and clasped my hands, only the kitchen counter in between his barstool and my chair. 
 
 `` What a year.'' I said. `` What a fuckin' year.'' 
 
 I stood up, with a loose hold on the TV remote I still grasped, and stared at him for a moment. 
 
 He was a pudgy mother fucker. A bead of sweat was running down his cheek, and you could hear him squirming, screaming inside, but unable to because of the duck tape. And the shock collar I fastened around his beefy neck. 
 
 `` Y'know. It's funny what that bitch leaves. She takes the dog with her, but leaves the shock collar.'' I said. 
 
 I approached the counter and leaned against it, my back to the burglar. `` In one week I lose my job for being'absent-minded' and'unproductive'. And then the bitch walks out, saying I'm'unapproachable', and'insensitive' or some shit.'' 
 
 I sharply pointed at him with the remote, eyeing him down its edge like the barrel of a gun. 
 
 `` And then you. You slimy mother fucker, decides to break in on New Years Eve.'' 
 
 He squirmed around in his chair, clenching up like he was expecting some sort of violent outbreak. 
 
 `` Y'know, my best friend died. The fuckers at work said I took more than long enough to grieve. But, Mr. Underwear-drawer-raiding-jewelry-stealing-burgalar-man, grieving aint that easy. This shit take time.'' 
 
 I settled with a heavy sigh as I gazed into the distance of the New York city skyline from my apartment. 
 
 `` But I aint got time anymore, I guess.'' 
 
 I refocused to the burglar, and I was still baffled at his dress choice. By the time I woke up passing out on the couch to the sound of him breaking into my bedroom, he was stripped out of his black sweatshirt and athletic sweats into a sleezy wife-beater shirt with hot pink lycra boxer briefs. 
 
 `` Damn, you'd think I'd feel fuckin' pissed catchin' you stealing my shit and running through my room, all my cash and jewelry in your pockets.'' 
 
 I reached into the pocket of the jacket that rested on the back of my chair and grabbed my lighter, and a cigarette. I put that cig in my mouth with a certain longing, a desire to feel something other than apathy, something besides the fuckin' gaping pit I felt now. Sweet nicotine does its shit, but even now, it was n't doing it for me. 
 
 `` Oh man.'' I said, with a chuckle. `` You shoulda seen the look on your face when I opened the door, gun in hand. And you! Ha! You was rubbin your shit while holding my underwear in your piglet hands you fuck! Fuckin' creepy shit man!'' 
 
 I was laughin' my ass off at this point while the burglar had a stupefied look on his face. I could smell his fear. He was aching to know what I was gon na do next. He was dying to either have me kill him or turn him in. Anything but sit in his fucking pink underwear, duct taped to a bar stool in my high rise apartment while I talked shit and drank beer. 
 
 `` Y'know what the god damn cherry on the fuckin top was Mr. Homo-Rapey-Burglar-Man?'' 
 
 He said a muffled'no' through the duct tape. 
 
 `` I ran over my own cat on the way in the parkin garage.'' I said. 
 
 I had my head in my hand and lost it. I started to cry, and not just some fucking sob, but a real breakdown, snot and all. 
 
 `` I told that bitch to keep the windows shut, but she's some kind of stupid whore and fucking left it wide open on her way out.'' I yelled, brandishing the remote in the air. I smashed a stack of her girly ass white basic bitch magazines onto the floor. 
 
 I calmly walked over to the couch, and rolled his chair right next to it. 
 
 `` It's my fuckin fault. I'm just a fuck up I guess.'' 
 
 And I turned on the TV and watched TV with a fuckin rapey-ass homo burglar on new years eve. That shit happened. For real. That was definitely my rock bottom, and here I am, day 12, sober and fuckin lovin it. 
 

