Thursday, January 27, 2005

little bastard.

so i walk into my room today, and i notice that my dog is chewing on a somewhat large object. turns out, the little shit-head is gnawing on an empty bottle of my anti-anxiety medication. by virtue of medicinal residue, he will be very chill for the rest of the night.

very. very. chill.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

two chickens and a duck.

i thought some guys on the radio were rapping about chickens and ducks the other day. and i was like aw. thats so cute. the chorus went something like 'two chickens and a duck, fuck fuckety fuck'.

but they're really saying this. i was crushed.


Saturday, January 22, 2005

i havent seen the sun in three days.

this weather blows.

it makes me want to sleep all day.

and dogs that are whining because they want to go outside and prance around in the sleet can go fuck themselves.

Sunday, January 09, 2005

squeeze some lime in it.

i cant believe he's not dead yet. im a fucking saint. gimme a cookie.

Saturday, January 08, 2005

i will kill this motherfucker.

this is the sort of blog entry that people use as evidence in homicide trials. ones where they try to prove premeditation so the scumbag on trial cant get off on manslaughter.

except im not really going to kill anyone. i just dont know how to express myself very well. when someone flails their way into your life by chance and that person sucks so bad that you are unable to articulate how much they fully suck, your thoughts turn to the vocabulary of red-rum.

my new roommate is good at lots of things. he's really good at smoking. in my room. at my computer. my brand-fucking-new computer. with the ash on the end of his cigarette poised delicately over the keyboard for which i haven't even gotten the rebate back yet. and the tall glass of bourbon in tipping distance of the mouse. my mouse. my mouse that i just fucking paid for.

and he's drunk.

and he has the grace of a retarded baby giraffe minutes after birth, even when not drunk.

MOTHERFUCKER. YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.

why are there awful-smelling hippie candles all over my room? why do i smell like awful hippie candles? why are there wet-wipes everywhere? did i just have a baby? and i didn't notice? am i getting fucking hysterical? he just put my flea-infested dog bed on top of my bed to clear more room for his shit in my room. there is a large man's footprint on my favorite clean white long sleeved t-shirt and he is going to fucking die.

my physical desktop is covered with water bottles and random crap, such as his gay-ass speakers, attached to my beloved, perfect, formerly unsullied computer. lighters everywhere. trash full of cigarette packs and kleenex. on my computer desktop there are approximately 10 to 15 programs douching up the expediency of my once fast and sleek CPU. and netscape. cause 'netscape is like SO much faster than internet explorer'. maybe back in 1994, douche-bag.

i think i could get off on temporary insanity if he were to walk in, and i were to maybe end his life. because there was hippie candle lit, in my room, with no one in the house but my dog to make sure it didnt start a fire. when i walked in this morning.

and do you know why he uses my computer all the time? because he spilled wax on his keyboard and motherboard when he was drunk.

if i wanted my computer to die id take a sledge-hammer to it. if i wanted to smell like my grandmother id smoke for 40+ years, fervently believe in the restorative powers of potpourri, and start talking like janis joplin sings.

i want none of the above. i want this enormous bag of douches to stop with the douching. Or move the fuck out. id rather set up a cot in the basement of the bar i work in, than deal with this ass-jack for 6 more months. im going to kill him.