Homo Superior: The Unofficial Underground Bank of Prague

Except that, you know, banks make money off what they loan.

[I originally thought better of posting this earlier in the day; however, when Valentýn came home from work and reported that Bryan was, once again, sitting in Monty's swilling beer, or vodka, as he prefers, I changed my mind. Subsequent additions are in green.]

Me, I have to budget for what the boys in my flat, and my flatmates, inevitably ask me for during the week.

It's a stupid policy and the result is that by the time Monday rolls around, I'm down to my last few hundred crowns, while Vasile is roaming Prague on someone else's tab, and Bryan buys a couple beers a day at Monty's for both him and the Ugly, but Actually Quite Pleasant and Quiet, Boy who lives with him in his room.

A week ago last Friday I loaned Homer 500 Kč; two hours later he borrowed another 400. An hour or so later I knocked on his door to find a roomful of boys, two of whom I'd never seen before, all happily eating, apparently on my dime. I almost forgot: Also in attendance was Sonja, the homeless transvestite drug dealer whom I allowed, once, to shower and wash her clothes in my flat. I told Bryan, OK, but don't make a habit of it. Meaning, by anyone's reasonable assumptions, just this once. Does anyone doubt that? Having read this blog, even cursorily? Instead, I see her every week, which, without even having to consult dictionary.com, does constitute a habit.

As Bryan said, I blew a gasket. Not initially for the reason he assumed - that here was yet another group of drug buddies I had to learn to deal with, coming and going at all hours of the night, chattering at piko-enhanced volumes, keeping Valentýn awake - but because Bryan has taken the opportunity I'd presented - that is, emptying my side of the flat of boys so I could have some peace and quiet to work - to fill his side of the flat with the boys of his choice. Do you see a pattern emerging? I do. I'm not gone one day and Bryan managed to kick out or alienate both of my boys, one of whom I'm in love with. Wielding his authority, which, I might add, derives ultimately from me, seems to be one of his favorite ways of acting out. I'm still plenty angry, at everyone involved, for what happened.

I did quickly assume that yes, here was another pervitin orgy for Bryan to write about in excruciating, convoluted and utterly self-indulgent, not to mention indiscreet, detail on his blog. I was wrong about that, but only in the timing of my accusation - money I loaned was spent on piko that day - but given his history, I can't say that it was an unreasonable conclusion to jump to. I only want him to keep the number of boys in his room down to two, which, I think is reasonable. He refused.

About Bryan, I was once teased: "When is he going to start writing your blog for you?" I'd never given much credence to the people who have suggested that Homer was vying, probably unconsciously, for my position in the flat, in the blogging world. How absurd, I thought. I'm not so sure anymore. He'd already confessed to me early on that he was jealous of my relationships with my boys. He wanted some of the action. Fine, go to it. Get your own boys but don't expect mine to fall in love with you just because you're my friend and live in the next room.

While you're at it, Bryan, finance them with your own money as well. And before you go boozing it up, pay back what you owe. Even better yet, live within your means.

I contacted Bryan last night, after looking at my wallet and calculating what I'd need to feed Valentýn and me for the next couple days, and texted that I'd appreciate the 900 Kč. Bryan responded that he expected an apology, insinuating, while at the same time denying, that he wouldn't pay me back until I did. It's the following day, and I still still don't have my money.

[I just texted him again, asking if it was possible for him to pay back at least something. No response.]

(Full disclosure: Besides yelling and blowing a gasket, I also kicked his door, shattering a piece of it, immediately after he told me that he was going to do what he liked, with whom he liked, that I was not his landlord - which would tell you quite a bit about Bryan's ambitions if you knew the specifics of my financial situation - and that if I tried to interfere with whom he had in the flat, he would call the police. He also attempted to goad me into hitting him, which I hadn't considered until he mentioned it, which is the purpose of goading, after all, and oh so classy; baldly stated that the episode of the Blackmailing Serbian Asshole was my fault because Normal was my boy first; complained that he, Bryan, was tired of being awakened at all hours [normal working hours for the rest of us] because Valentýn made coffee every morning before he went to work; and, oh goddess, I'm sure there was more because, as anyone who has read his blog knows, Bryan is never at a loss for words, often of elaborate self-justification and self-defense.)

I have plenty to apologize for, obviously; but, he wants a sincere one. It's just not in me at the moment. We are not compatible flatmates and I want him to leave.

There. Since Bryan's so keen on telling other bloggers how to write, I've managed to make my point without writing a novel and without bringing in a million or-so non-salient points. Please, make a rebuttal, but take some advice from me: Unless you're willing to admit that not every word that sludges out of your fingers is precious, and I have serious doubts about your ability to make that simple, but essential, correction, no one's going to be able to make it to the end of your post.


source:http://homo-superior.blogspot.com/