The police just left (different officers this time), the third time Donnie's called them on me in less than 2 weeks.

Last night I made some noodles, and put the cooking pot in the sink to soak overnight.

When I got up this morning, the pot was in the trash can, put there by Donnie, no doubt. (He later admitted to the police he did it.) He did it in a pique of spite.

Pissed off, I grabbed the pot out of the trash can, banged it on his door, and shouted, "WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!?!?"

So he called the police.

They came, and told me the same thing they always tell me, stay away from him, which I had been doing, up until this morning.

This is getting really old.

From: [identity profile] kennapea.livejournal.com


what a psycho!
haven't they told him that they aren't a counseling service yet?

From: [identity profile] man-of-snows.livejournal.com


I would definitely reccomend come and see me and get some hotfoot powder this week. For stuff like this, there is usually not a better way to handle it.

From: [identity profile] kevynjacobs.livejournal.com


Yeah, more-or-less today on the third police visit today.

From: [identity profile] man-of-snows.livejournal.com


A powder that you sprinkle to get rid of unwanted people. Works like magic! ;)
.

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