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won’t be offered before. I’m an opportunist.
     
    When I get home, Gaz, my bulldog, has left a massive fucking turd on the cream rug. There’s an entire apartment of wooden flooring, and yet he shits on the rug! I’m almost sick when I open the door. Jesus, what the fuck does that dog eat? The dirty bastard is nowhere to be found. I stalk through the apartment, and push open the bedroom door. He’s there, on my bed, on his back, legs everywhere, with his enormous nut sack sitting there like a fucking trophy. He’s snoring like a bloody chain saw.
    “Gaz!” I shout at him. Nothing. Fuck my life. I shove him, until he chokes and wakes up. He rolls onto his side and glances at me, not an ounce of fucking shame to be found.
    “You shat on the rug!” He grunts and slides off the edge of the bed, dragging his nuts across the sheets as he goes. I should mention, that the reason I have Gary is because he got kicked out of his last house…because he has a habit of jizzing on everything. At the time I felt sorry for him, I mean, it happens to the best of us, and with gnads like his… Now though…let’s just say, there’s an awful lot of crusty upholstery going on around here.
    I manage to find some rubber gloves under the sink, and half a roll of kitchen paper. Never in my life did I think I would ever be picking up dog shit, but here I am. Fuck me. He does bigger shits than me. I gag as I practically have to bicep curl the massive log. He watches me the entire time, breathing heavily like the dirty old fucker he is. I lob it down the loo, and flush. I bin the gloves and bleach my hands, although I feel like I need a full body fumigation. My life just hit whole new lows.
    “Right, that’s it Gaz. We’re going for a walk.” Gary hates exercise, in any way, shape or form. Hates it. Except shagging. He likes shagging. Good lad.
    I clip his lead on, and he throws himself on the floor.
    “Dude, you are walking a fine line.” I point at him. For fucks sake. I grab some treats from the kitchen, and what do you know, as soon as he hears the packet he’s up and standing right behind me.
    “Oh no. You have to work for it, you fat fuck.”
     
    I’m throwing treats like a ball for Gaz. This is the only way I can get him to move. I had him out here a few days ago, and an old lady told me that I should be ashamed of myself, for allowing him to get so fat. He was like this when I got him! Of course he’s fat, all he does is eat and sleep. He also likes the ladies. He’s a total pussy magnet. Even ice queen Lilly likes him. He laps that shit up.
    I’m crouching down, and in the process of trying to get him to come back to me, rather than just sit down, when a long pair of legs comes into sight, clad in those tight black gym trousers. My eyes travel up slowly, damn, those are some long legs. My eyes take in an athletic body in a hoody, and when I move to her face, I smile. She pulls her earphones out, and I can hear the heavy rock music blaring through them from here.
    “Molly.” Not going to lie, she’s looked better. I mean, I still would, but the au naturel look isn’t my thing.
    I haven’t seen her since she picked me up from the police station last week. Molly is…well, Molly, and I guess our friendship is an odd one. I don’t usually fuck a girl more than three times unless she’s a hooker, and after that, I usually don’t hear from them again. I’ve fucked Molly a lot. Things got out of hand, and I had to cut her off, but I needed her to be the one to walk away from me, so I pushed her away monumentally. I did shit I’m not proud of, and believe me, she’s the only person in the world that has ever made me feel an ounce of shame.
    I didn’t think I’d see her again anytime soon, but sometimes life throws you curve balls that make everything else pale into insignificance.
    I remember being at the club, actually doing some work for once, when my phone rang…
    “Molly?” I answered.
    “Hugo!” She was