In my experience, repulsive and completely random things just do not happen to people on a Monday. Usually this task is reserved for Friday or Saturday nights and almost always involves alcohol. Sadly this was not at all the case for me last Monday. I have to admit that after Brett Michaels I thought I would have been better prepared for the preposterous side show that found its way into my living room. To my surprise I was entirely mistaken.

It started off as a quiet evening at home. I had just gotten out of the bathtub when my blackberry went off. It was the OG and he wanted to come over. I was a little surprised to hear from him. We really had not spoken much since the night he silently crapped his pants while we attempted to watch The Hangover. My first instinct was to tell him that I had already prepared to call it a night and he should probably be doing the same at his age. Instead, I eventually caved and said what the hell.

He made it over to my apartment in record time. I was still in my robe when I heard the knock on my door. As I went to let him in I wondered how in the hell he got over here so fast. Either I am entirely too predictable or he had been sweating to the oldies earlier in the day and was still in hyper speed.

I brought him into the living room and told him to make himself at home. He sat down on the couch and began flipping through channels on my TV. I figured he would be okay on his own while I changed into my pjs and finished up in the bathroom. A few minutes later I heard him rummaging through my refrigerator and helping himself to whatever he found. Though I was a little annoyed that he was digging around in my kitchen like a meth head in full tweak mode, I had to remember that I was the genius that told him to make himself at home.

I emerged from my bedroom only a few moments later. As I walked into the living room and took one look at the scene in front of me it was all I could do to remember to breath. I stood there in silence for what seemed like forever. I remember thinking that I had to have been dreaming because this kind of shit just was not possible. Sitting on my couch in all of his glory was the OG… butt ass naked eating tangerines.

This lunatic had actually removed all of this clothing, ransacked my refrigerator, then sat down on my couch and made himself a little picnic. I looked down and noticed that certain parts of his body were nestled in between my couch cushions and this was not the kind of situation that a little febreeze could take care of. His sad little man boobs were ever so gently resting on top of his stomach where he also had 3 tangerines camped out waiting for their turn to be peeled.

After I picked my mouth back up off of the floor I finally managed to speak. I asked him just what in the hell he thought he was doing. He proceeded to tell me that this was his idea of a practical joke and that he was just trying to make me laugh. I could not even respond. I threw his pants at him and told him to get dressed. As he was shoving his own little tangerines back into his pants he kept asking me what was wrong.

At this point I knew that this would be the last time the OG and I saw each other. It became more than obvious that the only time he and I had any chemistry is when I was completely snockered. Since I was not prepared to become a full blown alcoholic I did the grown up thing and told him that it was time for him to leave. I walked him to the door and locked it behind him. I spent the next hour cleaning my couch cushions and throwing out the rest of my tangerines.