8 reasons you should get out of my house

1. You did a number two. I personally have qualms about performing this deed in a house of someone I barely know. But I suppose, if it comes down to it, and you really must relieve yourself, because mum says when you gotta go you gotta go, there are three things you can do to make the job a whole lot cleaner. The first is that you don’t make noises, either before, during or after the venture. This means that you should not declare you are going to do what you are going to do, but just ask politely where the toilet is and move quietly and swiftly like a fox. You should not grunt, groan or cry, or laugh, cheer and whoopee. Secondly, contain any odours within the toilet room and do your best to dissipate it before leaving. This involves closing the door properly when you enter, being quick about the whole business, and employing the use of matches, deodorisers, toilet cleaner, bars of soap, incense, whatever you can muster. Thirdly, flush the toilet. I can’t believe you forgot to do this. Really, you disgust me.

2. You sat on my chair. Why would you do that?

3. You didn’t shut the gate. Do you want someone to walk right into the house, murder us in cold blood and run away with our television and coins of gold? By not shutting the gate you effectively disarmed the security system. You see, in order for the gate to squeak, and hence signal ‘WARNING! WARNING! PLEASE BE ALERT AND ON HIND LEGS READY FOR DEFENSIVE ACTION’, it must first be closed so that for the trespasser to enter the house he/she must first have to open the gate. I don’t care who you are or what you are doing (ie middle-aged lady with bowl cut dropping off a package on behalf of Australia Post), but show some compassion and responsibility for your fellow humankind and please shut the gate.

4. You insulted my face. Okay, so you say you didn’t really, you didn’t mean to. But what person from what planet in what universe thinks that ‘My, you’re looking radiant tonight. Like a deer in the headlights.’ is a compliment? What person wants to look like a deer? A stunned one? A terrified one suddenly aware of its own mortality, suddenly aware of all the things it never did, all its failures, all its successes that now mean absolutely nothing? I certainly don’t and I now resent you wholly. I haven’t forgotten the time you said I resemble a truck, either. It’s not like I care what you think, but next time I will beat you to a pulp.

5. You asked me to get you a drink. Now, you can most certainly have a drink, in fact have ten, twenty, I don’t care, but you have two legs, two arms and a heartbeat and you can get it yourself. If that description does not apply to you or you are under the age of eight or you cannot reach the tap or you are profoundly cute and/or helpless then I will get you a drink. I may even ask you before you ask me.

6. You hesitated to eat my food. I almost cried. That’s why I went to the bathroom twice during dinner.

7. You picked at your heels. And left the remnants of your FESTERING, CAKED SKIN scattered on the floor, hidden down the side of the couch. The remnants managed to somehow embed themselves in the appliqué detail of our bohemian cushions, latch onto my clothing items and bury themselves in my hair, which, as you may know, is difficult to get things out of. I think I also discovered a little friend in my cup of tea, which I was really looking forward to . This was two months ago and I’m still trying to hunt down the final few deposits and be rid of them once and for all. I don’t think I need to explain this further.

8. You ate the last Tim Tam. I don’t think that’s very nice. Do you?