Breaking Bad Kirkland Edition

I want to clarify something before you read the rest of this. I use the term “roommate” loosely in this story. I don’t know this chick. I didn’t ask her to move in. I didn’t sign a lease with her. I live in a house, and rent a room in it that I found on craigslist for really cheap. Because craigslist isn’t just for dating. This house is up the street from a comedy club I work at constantly and close to fast food. 2 of my main requirements. Also it’s ridiculously inexpensive. Ideal for a super famous comedian who makes tons of money. First I lived with a really old dude. Then this chick moved in. She was probably also pretty familiar with craigslist.

She often stole little things, a Dr Pepper here, spare car key there. You know. Tiny things I wouldn’t notice. [/sarcasm] (I have a serious Dr Pepper addiction. I notice when I buy two and one disappears.) but after my landlord asked her to move out. All hell started breaking loose. She was gone for several days at a time. Weird people started showing up at the house and staying the night with her, The house smelled like cigarettes, Dishes piled up in the sink, garbage wouldn’t be taken out and we found two black garbage bags full of empty beer cans on the deck. Oh wait. That was before. Maybe she was a stand up comedian in training? Actually if you replace meth and cigarettes with nacho cheese stains on the carpet, it sounds a lot like my first apartment.

A couple days ago, my landlord said his theory was she was a prostitute. I’ve been living with a prostitute. Who knew. All this time, I’ve been trying to get girls drunk enough to sleep with me. I could’ve just stayed at home, purchased a 12 pack of Natural Ice beer and get my nut! 😀

The roommate still hasn’t come back, and after a 3 day pay or evict notice expired with no money in hand. My landlord decided to move her shit into the garage. He found an alcohol recovery notebook (the diary kind that you write things like “people don’t like me when I steal and use” or “people are most disappointed in me when I lie to them.”) next to 2 grocery bags full of empty “Natty Ice” cans. He also found a spoon with interesting residue and came and asked me if that was drug related. I said “I don’t know I have both my parents. I’ve never seen drugs up close, are there any needles?” He shrugged and came back 3 minutes later with a needle for injecting. I said “Oh that’s crystal meth. You cook it on the spoon and inject it.” He would randomly come to my room and show me fun things he found like his checkbook, and his backup computer harddrive. Then he said “I’ve counted at least 9 different toenail clippers. I don’t know what that’s about.” I did a fun google search. “Meth Nail Clippers” and the term “lurper” popped up.

A person (usually high on meth) who rummages through your belongings and steals some random, insignificant object like nail clippers or a pocketknife. Lurpers won’t steal your stereo or television. They’ll take your razor or cologne.

He says “Wow there’s tons of perfume bottles and stuff too. I thought that was just to cover the smoke smell.”

Fascinating, isn’t it? It’s the only time in my life I’ve been glad I’m poor and have nothing worth stealing besides Dr Pepper and Ben & Jerrys. I mean, I was wondering why my TV was still here at this point. But Urban Dictionary knows all. All this time I’ve been impatiently waiting for the next season of breaking bad when I could have just stayed home more often. (see what I did there? Same joke. In the same joke.)

There’s got to be some significance with my Lil Wayne Mugshot Poster on the wall too. You think she would learn from Weezy. Drugs are bad.

At this point, I want to give the obligatory shoutout to my dad for not being a drug addict. Maybe he could send her in the direction of a recovery center that worked for him. Maybe she needs to go to shick shadel hospital.