Jasper was here for, like, 19 hours before he decided he needed to cut the rope and expluckinglore. I love him so much that it hurts my belly, but he always kept distance. Emotional distance. Jasper slept okay in our bed, no complaints about the pillows or the dry heat blowing up the vent to suck the moisture from his big, fat lips.
But at breakfast he said the eff word to Abby regarding her sunny-side egg.
He called us boring and bourgeois. He made fun of my satisfaction. He was being obnoxious. Mr. Apple and I took him out to the wilds. Specifically Kushog Lake. To some big ice falls.
Jasper was bad company. He was insulting and loud. He smacked his lips and snorted until I sat him down and had a chat.
What do you want? — I pleaded.
For you to just go away with your insipid needy little brain and your low expectations and ever-spreading rump– Jasper sneered — You need to move on from me. Just, just FORGET ME!
Bye bye, egoman. Consider yourself forgotten. Arse.
Welcoming you back to the craft corner death match! holly and robots and yermits are playing. Battle axe!
