"i'm stuck here with butter-boob & nip-snickey" harvey birdman season 3

"this has been... quite.. the month huh, buddy?"
"hum? hey... i'm in the bathroom first." i indeed had been the first one in but had managed to pass out somewhere in between a mud mask and applying a septic pencil to a slick cut. i blinked one eye at a time and focused on anthony looming above me.
"you ruined the bath mat." he stuck a toothbrush in his mouth and shoved his foot down on my cheek. my head clunked down on the tile with the briefest of bumps. it stirred my tinnitus into a frenzy of ringing. i made a slight noise that was similar to "graarp" and the brush stopped swishing around.
"do NOT get sick."
"you know whaat?"
The brush went back into action. "Wuff? Do I know whuff?"
groaning i lolled my head back on the floor. "Oh..oh wow. i fffffucked up the mat."
"Yeah you sure did." spit. tap water. "Did you need anything or should i give you another hour to sleep it off in here? Kinda hankering for a shower."
i waived my hand around to grab the mat and clutch it to my chest.
"i'll pay for another one..." I sat up blinking as the spins whipped my vision around.
"What time did you come home?" He fished dental floss in and out of his mouth. i could almost hear it squeak. maybe that was just my brain tweaking?
"6... 7? what time is it now?"
"it's noon. you got some sleep in at least."
"Ah... ah... no i was up for a few more hours after that. mmmud mask and... yeah."
"Damn it! Don't tell me you used mine."
"Phhfffftttt... no i used mine."
i had used his.
my nails gripped for a bit of cheek and i noted my chalky fingers. probably swatting at the dried clay as i was passed out. the mat on my lap was gross and i chucked it to the side. no need to cradle some pubic hair magnet dipped in gore. my cheeks were flush and tingled with heat. it would be a god damned miracle if i could get out of here without fainting.
anthony yanked out the extendable mirror and dug at some eyebrow hairs. asking him to get me a glass of water would be out of the question since he'd probably chuck it in my face before putting the empty glass in my hand. it's what i'd do to him so there's no one to blame.
tipping the frame down he looked back at me.
"Do we always have to have this fucking talk every weekend now?"
"OH..."I looked angry but the rage sent blood thumping into my head. sharp and agonizing. i fantasized that this is how it'd feel to get a hatchet in the skull. I mumbled out the side of my mouth. "Oh, no... just a little fun on the weekend."
"Have you noticed you're a little out of control? I believe the expression is death wish."
"Pfft... I've been way more excessive before."
"This is relative to the company you keep. Why not... you know." He rolled his wrist around trying to conduct his thoughts with a tweezer. "Talk about it? Is that what i'm supposed to say now..."
"If you weren't a sociopath?"
"If I wasn't a sociopath. Listen, since when do you fall apart over a man like this?"
I immediately wanted to sleep again and avoid this line of questioning.
If i knew why i felt this way, i probably wouldn't be drinking my face off and indulging in mutilation over expensive facials. Probably wouldn't be crying over e.m. forster and deciding to go out at 10pm and making up for lost time... Probably wouldn't be crumpled up into a wad of devastation over some asshole calling me to cancel plans.
"What if you had passed out dicing yourself up? What then?"
"You'd have a reason to re-do the grout in the tiles if i bled out... and that would be a noble enough reason."
"Replace the mat. We're done."
"I was holding out for you to take a shower actually."
"OUT."
Pulling myself along the floor with my hands and ass i made my retreat with the mat coming with me. one rug? only one casualty isn't too bad when you think about what could have happened.