with. He was a 40-year-old black guy with crazy tattoos, Tywaun. She was determined to take the butanediol and see if it made her have better sex with him. I didn't want any more trouble with it, so after shaking my head with nothing I could say to change her mind, I ﬁnally just let her take it so she would leave me alone. She put a little bit of butanediol for me in my boy dog's medicine syringe, so that I would not feel left behind. My boy dog was dead, he wasn't going to miss it. At some point on her way out, she saw my neighbors from across West Muriel Street, a sort of bohemian looking young couple. The guy said “It looks like you got some G there.” I was surprised, how did he know that? It was a clear liquid in an unmarked bottle. Mandi told me “See, everyone knows what G is.” She pulled up the news story from Georgia on her phone, to brag to my neighbors she got arrested with $25,000 of the stuff. Then she gave the guy some, but stopped him short before he could drink all of it, and left. I knew what was about to happen. There was no point thinking about it. An hour later, I texted her "Tell your boyfriend to make sure you don’t take too much of that stuff or you will puke all over the place again." She texted back “too late 2)” My boy dog had just died of liver failure. When I told Mandi he stopped eating, she drove over to try to give him a treat, but he couldn't eat it. (When the other dogs tried to eat his treat, is one of the times she got on her high horse about morals.) I warned her she will go the way of the boy taking that stuff. Her boyfriend was at work when she got home. But she was determined to ﬁnd someone to take it and have sex with her. So she gave it to her landlord and another guy at the house, and had a threesome. When her boyfriend got home he was heartbroken and devastated to learn, she just had sex with his best friend and his landlord. So she gave him some to see if it would do anything, and had sex with him also. I don’t think anybody else even got as far as she did, to the point of puking. She needed to move her fumiture out of her mom's house, and the landlord would not let her move stuff into her new boyfriend's house. So I met her at her mom's house to bring her stuff to my house. There was a guy there in her little brother's grade, who had always crushed on her but never got anywhere. I walked right past this kid, 45 years old, and broke his heart fucking her upstairs while they all listened. That was number 57, almost all of them when she was living with another guy. And 57 is still the number today. Then I took the opportunity to snatch back what little butanediol was left, to save her from any more compulsive ridiculousness.