Purse on Oobs stealing my cell

God damned kleptomaniac. Here I was trying to be a good friend. I was really trying. I know that I usually suck at it, but you know, I was trying. So I agree to take care of Oobs pussy . Her pussy’s name is Hal. He was a great kid all week.

Then fucking Oobs comes back to pick Hal. While Oobs is at my place, she decides it’s a good idea to put MY phone in HER pocket, and leave.

Now, I know Oobs has some issues, so she gets away with a lot of sub-par behavior, but this is just ridiculous. She took my cell from my apartment, and took it home with her under the guise that “it looks like mine.” For the record, hers is twice as wide, twice as heavy, and silver, while mine is black.

I wish the story ended here. But it doesn’t. Twenty four hours later, I come to Oob’s place to pick up my phone. Not only did she admit to almost forgetting that I was coming to get my phone, leaving me without communication or mode of communicating to her that she forgot about me (bitch), but when she finally returns it, it’s battery COVER IS MISSING.

“Hey, Oobs…what in the hell happened to the back of my phone.”

“Oh!” she says innocently, bends over to the bottom of her shelf, revealing three inches of her no-thonged ass crack. “Here it is!”

WTF Oobs. You don’t take someone’s cell, break it and then hide the pieces in your apartment. What were you going to do with my batter cover Oobs? Why were you hiding it from me? I can only imagine…