Video game stupidity

So I get back from class today and I'm enjoying some alone time before dinner. Of course, that's too good to be true. The second I decide it's time for dinner, Fatass comes in. Granted, it's cool that he arrived when I was about to leave, but that's not the douchebag part.

The douchebag part is him saying that he's not going to be here that long, and guess who's with him? That's right, it's Bitchface. So they both come in, even though "we're not going to be here that long." I say whatever, because I'm going to dinner anyway. I get back from dinner, and who do I see? Yup. That's right. Fatass and Bitchface leaning against my bed, playing video games. Apparently, "not that long" will translate until about midnight, and apparently, spring break has taught him nothing about respect for others' property. Not that I expect him to learn anything, because he's a retarded redneck fuck. No, I'm sorry, he's not a retard. That's too offensive... to retards. He's a motherfucking fatheaded, no-brained dickless lunatic that deserves to fail at everything in life forever.

So what are they doing while sitting against the side of MY bed? Well, Bitchface is doodling something unitelligible into her notebook, and Fatass is mashing his fat fingers against a video game controller. It wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't so awful. Every 2 seconds, I hear, "God fucking dammit." Literally. Every. Two. Seconds. And then, if he does advance past the bad guys, he makes annoying sounds, like the sound of an alarm or an obnoxious scream or something else that makes me want to drive a railroad spike through his skull.

So what was supposed to be a night of freedom has turned into a disgusting, fish smelly (yes, I think they fucked, because it smells like a wharf) night of misery and hatred. Then again, I'm not surprised. This isn't the first or second time that this has happened, and if I remember correctly, he told Bess that Bitchface wouldn't be over anymore. There are no words that can describe the level of cuntwad this guy is.

And there it is again. "God fucking dammit."

You know what? God fucking damn YOU to the deepest bowels of hell.

So what the fuck, right?

You're probably wondering where your favorite pissed off college student was this weekend, and I have to say that I had an awesome weekend, mainly because I was at work the whole damn time. However, I did get to think about a new story that I haven't told yet, so there is new material, albeit a couple days late. Here we go.

So back in September, while I was still nice enough to give a fuck about what Fatass is doing, I come back into the room after class. After I get settled in, he takes out this massive chef's knife and starts sharpening it. By Big State laws, you are not allowed to have any sort of that on a college campus, let alone concealing it in your fucking sock drawer.

Now, normally I'm okay with rights to carry and stuff like that. You'd be god damed to find out, but I'm actually a pretty tolerant guy. But the thing is that people actually heard the sharpening of the knife from rooms away, so the Big State University Police was called, along with the Generic Residence Hall Director. So pretty much, I hear a knock on the door and go over to open it and there's a university cop and the hall director glaring at me. I step out of the way to show Fatass sharpening his knife.

Nowadays, I'd want him to get his fucking due, but back then I felt kinda guilty for selling him out. If I knew then what I knew now, he'd be getting slapped down with a court appearance. Kinda wish he was. But the worst part of it all was that he made up a bullshit lie about his friend being a culinary arts major and he was just sharpening it for her. Riiiight.

So, they let him off with a warning, and he's thinking he's all high and mighty and invincible. Think Boris Grishenko from GoldenEye. He pretty much became an insufferable twat for the next two days, continually gloating about the fact that he pulled one over on a rent-a-cop.

What he doesn't realize is that had I known better, I would have sold him out faster than Napoleon sold the Louisiana Purchase in 1803.* But since that incident, it seems that the lesson sunk into his thick fat skull and he stopped doing stupid shit that will result in a court hearing.

I still wish he would be pimpsmacked by the law at least once, but I think that death by liquid nitrogen and then an explosion would be better.




*Your history reference for the month.

Get out. NOW.

So it's a miracle of epic proportions. Yours truly has the room to himself tonight. Perhaps after my jam session last night at 11pm when they were trying to sleep (no idea why), they got the picture that I don't live by their clock. But hey, it's Fatass, so any hope of him learning something should be dismissed right from the start.

Anyway, I guess I'll talk about a couple things, since I'm the only person in my room for once. First, we'll start with today. I work. I'm not going to tell you where I work because that'd just go against all policies of angry blogs. Sorry, that's just how it goes, but as a college student, you can safely assume it isn't anything that involves a lot of skill. So I'm working and I'm almost through with my shift, and here come Fatass and Bess. Fatass is smiling at me with that awkward smile that makes me think he watches me while I sleep. Fortunately, I was spared by work and had to go into the back, thus avoiding his inevitable, "Well hello there." Still makes me cringe.

The other fucked up thing he does that makes me wish he was dead is just completely go douchebag and cancel plans just so that he and Bess or Bitchface can be in the room. About 10 times last semester, he said, "Oh, you'll have the room to yourself tonight!" And you know what happened when I came back from work? They were there. It was either a "Hold on a minute," or "well hello there." Fucking piece of shit. Fortunately for him, tonight wasn't one of those nights. If he had told me to hold on a minute, I would have kicked them both out the window a la 300. "THIS! IS! MY ROOM!!!!!!!!!"

So yeah, I'm just going to enjoy this night of freedom. For once, I'm actually in a decent mood. I'd tell you to take a picture because it would last longer, but this blog is kind of a lasting image anyway... Weird. Okay, bye.

LIAR!!!

Double posting because of double dumb shit!

Fatass is now talking to Bess on the phone while Bitchface is in the room. She is now leaning against Fatass's bed because I gave her the look of death. Both of them smell like tobacco from their "walk", so I want them to be nowhere near me. It's bad enough they're in the room.

But the first thing out of Fatass's mouth is that "Oh, Bitchface went back to her room to do homework." LIAR! Unless I'm taking drugs (which I'm not, though I probably should be on some antipsychotics), she is sitting RIGHT FUCKING HERE AT THE SIDE OF HIS BED LIKE A FUCKING PUPPY. Now he says she's not feeling well due to issues going on personally. Yup, so she comes here. Maybe if I break her fucking nose do something unpleasant that is not abusive like my roommate, she'll get the picture that she's not welcome here and then really have something to not feel well about. Fucking bitch.

So yup, Fatass is talking to his barely legal girlfriend... oh yeah, I forgot to mention that. He's 23. She just turned 17 a couple months ago. They've been dating over a year. I can't wait to see this guy on To Catch A Predator. Chris Hansen would have a field day with him. So anyway, he's talking to Bess and lying to her about her presence in the room. Way to go, schmuck.

And now here comes the fireworks in tonight's program. Bess says something that pisses Fatass off. This causes him to spout verbally abusive shit about how he's going to smack her the next time she's here. Lovely. Ladies and gentleman, the abusive redneck. So now I'm going to listen in to their conversation.

He wants to know why Bess is jealous of him and Bitchface. MAYBE IT'S BECAUSE SHE'S FUCKING HERE EVERY DAY! I would be to, you fat fuck! And then he's just rolling his eyes and brushing it off like it's nothing. But he does have a point. She does have nothing to be jealous about, because Bitchface is too old for his tastes. Oh, and now he's sorry. Sure, buddy. We'll see what happens when you talk to her tomorrow night, you swine.

AND NOW HE'S WONDERING WHAT'S BOTHERING HER!!! Jesus Christ you inbred fuck! Don't you listen at all? And now he's getting pissed about her saying, "I'm pissed about nothing." Because she realizes it does no good to argue with him. "That's what you're thinking," he says angrily. Wow, he's a hillbilly mindreader! Amazing! Read this, fuckhead, "YOU. ARE. A. DOUCHEBAG." That's what I'm thinking you preteen sister-fucking prick. What right does he have to be angry with her when Bitchface is over here every god damn night. Jesus Christ.

And now he goes ahead and slams the window open and closed. URRGGGH... FATTY ANGRY!!! FATTY SMASHHHHH! He has a bit of a problem believing she's not just saying "nothing" to get him to shut up. I'm having a bit of a problem not taking a carving knife, chopping off his tits, and choking him with them.

"Would it make you feel better if I only saw her for meals?" I don't know about Bess, but it'd make ME feel better. But Fatass is a greedy fuck, so I'm guessing that's not gonna happen.

And now he wants to know what she did in school today. You know, HIGH SCHOOL. Be right back; I'm going to go throw up now....

Okay, I'm back, and it seems the conversation has died down. Now their conversation has bored me, so I'm done with this. I'm putting my headphones in and praying he doesn't start trying to talk to me once he hangs up. We're going on an hour and a half of conversation and the past 45 minutes have been relatively tame, so I'm about to wrap this up. Hopefully this gives you a better picture.