Monday, November 20, 2006

Suitemate Blues - Rosenblum, Read This:

I don't interact with my suite-mates much, so we usually don't have any real serious problems. However, the community bathroom has apparently become a hot-spot for activities which are apparently designed for the express purpose of pissing me off. Today, a number of them have come together to put me in one really bad mood.

First, a little setup. There's a towel rack on the wall in our bathroom that is broken. It holds towels just fine, but it's not properly secured to the wall. It falls apart if you pull out on it from the wall. It can handle the downward weight of a towel, but if you the pull the towel off the rack in a clumsy manner, the towel rack falls apart and clatters to the floor. Now, I will admit I was guilty of causing it to do this once. Once. That's it. I put it back together and never did it again. Now, someone else is breaking the thing on a regular basis. I know this, because they never have the courtesy to put the thing back together. They just leave the pieces on the floor for me to find next time I enter the bathroom. I've had to fix the thing at least a dozen times over the course of the semester. Now, I realize I'm better at putting shit together than some people, but the way I see it, if you break it, you should fix it, not leave it there for me. Not knowing how to put it back together is no excuse. I'm not asking you to reassemble a fucking computer hard drive. It's two fucking pieces. It's not that complicated.

Another point that has become more prevalent lately is the toilet paper. Our toilet paper supply is not running out, but that's no excuse to squander it. I've had to change the toilet paper roll 3 times in the past two days because some jackass keeps using up the entire fucking roll, then leaving the empty cardboard thing there for me to take care of. Now, I can almost understand having some reservations about the grandiose task of reassembling a broken towel rack, but come on. This is changing the toilet paper roll. No one is so fucking stupid that they can't figure out how to do it. When you finish off an entire roll of paper by yourself, which is in itself a crime against God in my opinion, you should at least have the courtesy to replace the cardboard holder with a fresh roll from the bag sitting under the sink. For that matter, you really shouldn't be using up an entire fucking roll of toilet paper in a single day. That is beyond sick.

So, I'm pretty certain these acts are being committed by the same person. Why? Because just now I went to the bathroom, and I found a dismantled towel rack sitting on the floor, an empty cardboard roll that I had just replaced last night, and the icing on the cake, a huge floater in the toilet that was apparently too difficult for this person to both shit and flush. Well, that tore it. I'm finding out who this guy is, and I won't have any mercy. I already have a guess, too. Rosey, if it's you, you'd better either come over here and apologize to me in person, or pray to God I never find conclusive proof that it's you. If I do find conclusive proof, I will not hesitate to rip the towel rack off the wall and beat your fat ass to death with it.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Eatin' Good

So, Saturday was kind of screwed up. I stayed up late again the night before because I'm a dumbass. I ended up sleeping in until about 6:00pm. That obviously fucked up my sleep schedule for today as well, and most likely will carry over into tomorrow. It'll be a damn miracle if I can wake up for class on Monday. But, I digress...

Saturday night, Schunk calls me and says he and Big Guy are going to Applebee's again. My options at that point were to go along with them or watch that The Amazing Jonathan special on Comedy Central. Now, I love the stand-up comedy and magical stylings of The Amazing Jonathan as much as the next guy, but I figured I needed to get out more, so I went.

So, we ate at Applebee's. After the appetizer platter and buffalo wings, Big Guy and Schunk had burgers. I had three-cheese chicken penne. Schunk commented that I am a fag. I suggested that he shut the fuck up. At one point during the meal, he said something pretty funny and told me I should write about it here. It's a crying shame I can't remember what it was.

Okay, before continuing, I have a brief flashback. Remember those friends of Big Guy's that gave us a ride to the party a couple posts back? I didn't point it out at the time, but they happen to be of the female persuasion. It wasn't especially relevant at the time, but is somewhat relevant now.

So, back to the present. Big Guy said at one point that the aforementioned friends might be joining us, but it never materialized. Apparently, there was some disagreement. He told them on his cell phone we were at Applebee's, but apparently they weren't coming.

Or so we thought...

(this space has been inserted to build dramatic tension)

I should point out that we were sitting at a window seat. While we were eating, we looked out the window and saw one of Big Guy's friends and her roommate outside. They were strangely excited for some reason. Also, they were wearing pajamas. They came over to the window and started waving, dancing and cavorting about. In pajamas. Not amused by the display before him, Schunk casually reached over and closed the blinds. Outside, they were still trying to get our attention, but they eventually left. In their pajamas.

A woman at another table asked Big Guy, "Are they crazy or what?" I said I don't know those people. Big Guy turned to her and said something like "Yeah, they're pretty fucked up. They're stalking us." I think the woman was satisfied. At a glance, those two certainly looked like crazy stalkers. Did I mention they were wearing pajamas? Okay, good. Just making sure.

(Okay, I'm sort of introducing someone else we know in this next part. I don't know if he has a running nickname, but I don't want to use his actual name without permission, so I'm going to use a wildly inappropriate moniker until I can come up with something better)

On the way back to campus, Big Guy talked to them on the phone again. He mentioned the woman who now thinks they're insane stalkers. His friend on the phone talked about coming by Benoit to see us. Big Guy said that if they come over wearing those pajamas, and the dirty mexican shows up, there will most likely be, and I quote, "a fucking rape party." We actually ran into the dirty mexican on the way back. He seemed to agree with Big Guy.

So, we got back to Benoit and watched a couple episodes of Stella. Schunk has a thing for Micheal Ian Black, but not in a gay way. Not to my knowledge, anyway. Big Guy's friends never showed up, so the "fucking rape party" never took place. I think the dirty mexican was disappointed. Frankly, so was I.

So, that was about it. I guess I'll be signing off now. My next post will probably be from the hospital after I get cut by the dirty mexican, who is probably pissed off at me. Honestly, it was all in good fun, I meant no offense. Please don't cut me, esse.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

To everyone who has ever considered imitating Borat:

Shut the fuck up. You are not Borat. You are not funny. Stop filling me with mind-numbing rage with your retarded fake accent. You are trying and failing to look cool by imitating the character that you adore so much, and it drives me insane. I don't care if that movie becomes the highest grossing movie in the history of mankind. That would only mean that the actor who plays Borat is funny. You, however, are still a sad little man who needs to accept the fact that he's not funny. Accept your unfunny place in the world, and shut the fuck up. Thank you for your attention.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

I want to play a game.

Well, it took me long enough, but I finally decided to write about that Halloween party I went to. I've been busy, so I didn't really get a chance until now. Before I get started, I just want to clarify for everyone that absolutely everything you're about to read is 100% true. Except for the parts I made up.

So, where do I start? Well, I guess it started at Benoit before everyone went out. There were a lot of good costumes there that night. I put some photos up on Facebook. Click the link in the title to view the album. (You have to be logged in to see it) Now, as it turns out, there was more than one party going on that night. No one could really agree on one to go to, so the group ended up parting ways for the night. I ended up going with Schunk to a party his friend was throwing. For some reason, no one else wanted to go. I think it had something to do with a lack of Jungle Juice. Anyway, some friends of Big Guy gave us a ride to the house.

As it turned out, Schunk was the only guy at the party that I knew. So, small-talk was pretty much out of the question, but that was fine. I was dressed as Jigsaw. My job was to stand there and look creepy. I have to say, I did it very well. The party was still pretty sweet, though. As the night rolled on, more and more people showed up, and it became difficult to move. Supposedly, that's a sign of a successful party. I really wouldn't know.

At one point, a game of Beer Pong was played. I didn't take part, but Schunk did, and I was on his side of the table. This was partly for good luck and moral support, partly to creep out the other team, and partly because I had nothing better to do. Whatever I was there for, it worked. Schunk got four successful throws in a row. He then went on some kind of rant about the Four Horseman. He was dressed as Ric Flair, so I guess it was to be expected.

After that, there was a lot of loud music being played. Normally, I detest loud music, but at least it was good loud music. Also, it gave a couple girls at the party an excuse to dance on top of a table.

(Which reminds me, before I go any further, there's something I need to say here. Whoever originally came up with the concept of having girls use Halloween as an excuse to dress up in the skimpiest outfits possible, I'd appreciate it if you would come visit me at Marist. I would like the opportunity to meet you in person, shake your hand and say "You've done the world a great service. Thank you.")

So, back to the story: Two hot girls are dancing on a table. I'm sitting on the couch about 2 feet away from the table. That alone was reason to be glad I went out that night. I know that sounds perverted, but I'm a stressed-out nerd with no girlfriend. This is all I have. At one point, I considered getting out my camera so I could take a video clip of the two of them, but I decided against it, thinking it would be rude. To this day, I deeply regret that decision. I often wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat screaming "Why am I such a fucking idiot?!"

Well, aside from that, I also was happy to learn that I was not the most perverted freak at the party that night. There was a certain guy in a cheap pumpkin costume there who took it upon himself to join in the dancing. And by dancing, of course, I meant he was trying to dry hump the girls dancing on the table. I'm not sure what was weirder; the fact that he was doing it, or the fact that they weren't trying harder to brush him off. Ah, power of liquor. At one point, someone yelled to him, "Make a grab!", or something along those lines. I think he considered it, but didn't go through with it. Understandable, I guess. Had I been in the same position, I don't think I would have done it either. Of course, that's mostly because I took forever trying to put on my makeup that night, and really didn't want it getting screwed up by a slap in the face, which I was fairly sure I would have invited. The girls were drunk, but not that drunk.

Later on that night, Schunk ended up behind the bar selling shots. The main item for sale was a shot called "Vampire Juice." Absolutely everyone who went to the bar asked what was in it, but no one got a straight answer. I don't think too many people actually knew. I'm not sure myself, but from what I can gather, it is essentially a mixture of Rufies and Hawaiian Punch. The shots were going for $1 each, but apparently not everyone had brought enough money with them. A few guys, clearly inebriated and low on cash, had offered to give Schunk a blow job in exchange for a shot, but he declined. At first...

The night rolled on, and Schunk eventually decided, after being stuck behind the bar for almost an hour, that he was ready to leave. Unfortunately, we didn't have a ride back to campus. Big Guy's friends never came back, and he and the others never came to the party as they said they were going to. Schunk tried calling them, but no one was answering their cell phone. So, we ended up walking back to campus. If you ask Schunk about it, he probably has a 10-minute speech prepared about how it was "bullshit." Personally, I think I blame the Jungle Juice.

So, aside from how it ended, it was a pretty cool night. I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get to kill anyone, though. Oh, well, maybe next year.

Oh, yes. There will be blood.

Friday, November 03, 2006


I was planning on writing some stuff about Halloween, but haven't thought up anything really good yet. I'm sure I'll get around to it at some point.

Which reminds me: I might be dying. It could just be a false alarm, but I might have meningitis, so it's possible I'm going to die. I'm going to see about going to the health services offices in the morning, but I don't know how fast this stuff goes. I could be dead by then. Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks to anyone who found my meager existence to be in any way worthwhile. I don't want to get all mushy on you, but I'll miss you guys. I just figure I should say my goodbyes in case I'm dead soon.

I think we've all arrived at a very special place. Spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically. I want you to know that I was rooting for you. Know that. Elizabeth... it would never have worked between us darling. I'm sorry... Will... nice hat. Friends... This is the day that you will ALWAYS remember as the day that you...

*backs up and trips over ledge*