Rosa was a mean bitch.
I only visited her because I thought she was lonely.
I didn't know much about dementia.
All I knew was that Rosa was suspicious.
I'd have to pick up her scale from under her bed.
She two, both over 30 years, which she said she bought from Christmas Island when she relocated to Australia in the late 70s.
This could be bullshit.
Nothing about Rosa makes sense.
She'll feed you any kind of shit then later deny it.
I'd go to her room to the scale.
For an old lazy, she fucking moved.
No sooner was I digging for the scale under her bed, in her fucking cluttered room, she'd be outside, looking i.
If anyone could give a suspicious look, it was Rosa.
A total upstart.
How she ever landed in Oz is anyone's guess, but she was a pensioner and demanded money every week.
The fact that hard working Australians paid taxes so this bitch could collect a pension, was beyond her.
'You don't trust me, do you Rosa.'
She denied it.
'You had the CCTV cameras installed because you don't trust me?'
She denied it.
Rosa is your typical Asian who lies not to offend.
Her brother use to go to school with Malaysia's most notorious tourist, Nordeen Mohammed Top, the bomb maker who studied chemistry at a University in Brisbane.
Nothing makes sense.
'Everything makes sense,' said Rosa.
She was holding a machete.
And she had the strength to use it.
'Not only is your toe broken, you'll be now walking around like a headless chicken.'
I hated her even more.
She was never going to feed off my energy.
Die, Rosa, a horrible death, Jesus is here now.
