Dec 2011

Actual text exchange between me and M, during an episode of "Hoarders". My crush on Matt Paxton of Clutter Cleaner should be more well documented than it is. And I love this conversation so much I felt it needed to be immortalized.

B: Matt Paxton: "I don't want a flea landing on me that's been living in someone's poop for 5 years." The man is a GOLDMINE of quotes.

M: Seriously. He's like the mother Theresa of shit. See, that's why I don't trust cat people. That bitch just pet a cat carcass on top of a pile of poop diapers.

B: I KNOW. I feel about cats the same way I do about kids. I only really like my own. And yours. Kid that is. WTF was Paxton doing ON TOP of poop mountain? I don't care if I was in full HazMat, no thanks.

M: Cats. I don't like any. They are all shady and judgey. They walk around, all "I have nine lives and I have judgment eyes and I watch you have sex". Bitches.

B: "the last place I wanna die is under a pile of your diapers" Also that sentence you wrote sort of describes me, minus the sex watching.

M: See, this is why you can't sleep with Paxton. Because he's been on mountains of shit. There is no condom thick enough.

B: I know. I could still hang out with him though right? And just write down things he says? JESUS quit showing me dead cats!

M: PS When I get old and crazy(er) which is a total given, I'm not going quietly into the old folks home, I am going whole hog and shitting in diapers and making sculptures of them. Consider yourself warned. Warned whatever, you'll be there too. I'd have more fun retiring with you.

B: Let's be roommates. Shit creativity doubled. Also. I think there's some abnormality with the level of enjoyment I get from this disgusting filth.

M: No cats allowed though. I don't want the judgment when their decomposing bodies are found. And yes you can hang with Paxton. I want to come too. And that's what you think is abnormal about you? You haven't been paying attention...

B: I feel like writing fangirl letters to him. Let's wear muumuus and lots of jewelry in our hoard. Plus the loose drapey gowns will hide diaper panty lines. I'm going full-on batshit crazy in retirement.

M: I wrote a letter on your behalf. I asked him for a signed photo and the dick hasn't written me back. I told you I love you.

B: Goddamn him. More stalking needed. And I'm touched by the depth of your love. I will do equal crazy shit just for you.

M: Let's write him every day with just his best quote listed and signed "forever yours" in shit with our names.

B: Cocktail hour starts at 10 am in our hoard.

M: I need a wolf pelt to wear in our hoard. Cocktails will be the one thing we keep clean.

B: Ooh! Let's send Paxton pictures of litter boxes too. I would dip a qtip in shit to sign my name. Hell, you have a kid in diapers. We have access to shit that's NOT EVEN OURS.

M: GD genius. And what's with all these people "losing" money in their hoard? I don't even lose cash in my washer. We won't be angry hoarders! We will be drunk and happy in our muumuus!

M: OK, I'm taking my allergy ass to bed. No Christmas trees in our hoard. In fact I'm going to be Jewish next year.

B: Mazel tov!