WHO FEELS LIKE CONJUGATING VERBS? NOT ME!

I'll update everyone about the food situation in the apartment.

So.

There are these 2 French girls living here right now. Lutti and Camille. Lutti is cool. She does not eat my food.

HOWEVER.

Let's talk about Camille today. I had to confront her today about eating MY yogurt and MY jam. We already told her in no unclear terms that a simple "please" would probably suffice in most cases, and I wouldn't mind so much if she deemed it advisable to actually wash her hands after she used the toilet. Gross. Anyway, back to the main problem. The confrontation went something like this this very morning after I discovered that she ate my most expensive, yummiest yogurt purchased by ME the night before so I could have something to wake up to:

ME: Hey Camille, did you eat one of these yogurts this morning?
KLEPTOMANIAC CAMILLE: Ummmm...
ME: WELL DID YOU?!?!?!?
KLEPTOMANIAC CAMILLE (looking around frantically for the fire escape): Weeeelllll...
ME: YOU DID DIDN'T YOU. YOU STUFFED YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH WITH MY PURCHASED DANONE YOGURT IN THE CUTE GLASS BOTTLE. YOU THOUGHT I WOULDN'T NOTICE DIDN'T YOU. YOU THOUGHT I WOULDN'T CARE! I'VE GOT NEWS FOR YOU BITCH. I'VE KNOWN FOR A WHILE THAT YOU'VE BEEN EATING THE ONLY EDIBLE FOOD IN THE HOUSE BECAUSE IT'S MINE.
IF YOU SEE ANYTHING EDIBLE IN THIS HOUSE, DON'T EAT IT, BECAUSE YOU DIDNT BUY IT AND NEITHER DID THE SEÑORA BECAUSE ALL SHE BUYS IS COW TONGUE AND SPICY LARD. YOU'RE GOING TO PAY, STICKY FINGERS!

After that, I took her, stuffed her in my t-shirt drawer, and kept her there for the rest of the day. I decided the only punishment that would be appropriate is to make her sleep standing up in my closet and locking the dog in there with her. That way she'll get a concentrated whiff of dirty dog whenever she wants to breathe.

Tomorrow for dinner, we're having deep fried dog and cooked Camille. It will be better than anything our señora vomits out for dinner every night.