Mr. I Habitant. "Hab" to his friends,
and, more importantly, to his
division rivals. The guy who up until
about a few days ago was in the playoffs.
I knew it was him the moment I saw
the letter. I start to remember
things now: His stupid clothing,
his music -- Latin, Bulgarian,
whatever f**king world music was
trendy that week--stupid laugh,
awful cooking smells. I can't
remember anything good about him at
all. I never liked him much then,
and I f**king hate him now...