How some people can roam people’s houses without underwear is truly baffling. I really don’t see the need to have your nipples staring at me. Thank you very much. Old wives tales have predicted my eyelids to swell up with pus in direct relation to the amount of porn I have to eyeball these days.

Woman (and You!!)! Have you no shame?!

Has your DNA mutated to an unknown extent, such that comfort overrides embarrassment?

FACT : The only boobies I ever want to see are my own.

My eyes should not be enduring your lovey dovey throngs of affection or coos of admiration. I see enough shit on the MRT. And I don’t appreciate replays at home. Only do things that should see the light of day in front of people. Please.

Hugs are good. Hand on breast is fucking not.

I don’t need to witness these pornographic exhibitions.

I’m not exhibiting jealousy at your ability to find a mate. I’m safeguarding my right to privacy in my own home together with the right to rest these weary eyeballs.

There is such a thing as self respect.

You are a guest. So you should, to put it bluntly, behave like one. And one should be wise to adhere to the logic of not overstaying one’s welcome.

“Like milk, guests turn sour after 3 days”

Although I appreciate your kindness to clean my house, it really isn’t necessary. Seriously, I’m able to live with a mountain of dust. I’m just not very able to live with you.

I wish you every luck to find your happiness. And may you find it this time.

And to you, her partner in crime. Do your shit outside.

I want my home back.