Fit for purpose.

I used to share a house with a couple of young ladies.
Nothing suss. Just me out in the annex off the laundry rooting through a bevvy of [semi]attractive young ladies after a breakup and a couple of young lasses enjoying life.

One of these ladies was Marie. Marie had fucked kidneys - can't remember what exactly what was the diagnosis but she'd had a transplant when she was in her teens and since then it had failed, so she had dialysis once a week.
This was the 90's so Marie had rather wisely booked her dialysis for Sunday morning to coincide with her come-down. Did I mention that Marie FUCKING LOVED her MASSIVE DRUGS. Pills, whizz, pot.. whatever as long as it got her off her rocks. On Saturday night.
Then I would drive her to dialysis on Sun morning early - we'd both snooze off the comedown/hangover after a few bucket bongs for the road and then come home for brekky and a few more bongs.

As you can imagine things were often a little "haywire" at the casa de la fun. The other girl I shared with was a little more straight laced than Marie and myself. Sharon ran her own carpet cleaning business. And she doted on her cat, Mog. Mog was the fattest, thickest, greediest cat I've ever had the pleasure of coming across. This animal would labor up onto the bench, lick the butter and then shove his face into it at the last minute just before being caught and bodily chucked outside. For some reason whenever Mog got an abscess from fighting (getting the shit kicked out of him by other cats) Sharon would feed him paracetamol. Against all advice. At first he hated it, and then eventually he came to love crunching down a couple of tablets. To a slightly worrying extent.

Back to the story -
We had a party. It wasn't really a house-warming nor a birthday, so we just had an "Excuse Party". A party with any old excuse. As a party it went swimmingly. Until Marie found Mog. Looking the worst for wear. Mog was behaving very erratically - his actions wavered between mewling loudly and with wide eyes at nothing whatsoever and then promptly flopping down where he stood to have an insta-nap. We were a tad non-plussed until Marie discovered a half chewed ecstasy tablet near her set of drawers in her room. Clearly paracetamol was just his gateway drug & Mog had since moved onto the harder stuff.

Suffice to say - Mog had an interesting couple of days. Sharon queried his behavior and Marie and I played dumb. Marie polished off the last half of the tab before I took her up to dialysis and all in all it was apparently another good party at our place.
Mog eventually died of liver failure many months later. The reason cited by the vet was that paracetamol is not meant for ingestion by animals and damages their livers.
(shitposter from the anals of posteriority on, Sat 17 Oct 2015, 23:01, 7 replies)

I hope you fucked it or ate it or both.

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Sat 17 Oct 2015, 23:17, closed)

Nothing like
a purring pussy on your lap.
(shitposter from the anals of posteriority on, Sat 17 Oct 2015, 23:24, closed)

alright Rob
Thought you were dead mate.
(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Sun 18 Oct 2015, 10:08, closed)

My wife is a nurse and a nutrtionist.

( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Sun 18 Oct 2015, 11:58, closed)

He keeps his wife in his 44,000 litre saltwater pool

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Sun 18 Oct 2015, 12:52, closed)

Whos up for a paddle in his splendid pool?



( Tesco Quality 60.825659, -0.788337, Mon 19 Oct 2015, 16:39, closed)

He lives in a pleasant residence.

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Tue 20 Oct 2015, 7:35, closed)