My typical weekend

The preferred sex pose
of Fatass and Bess.

It's a miracle. It's my last weekend up here at Big State U for the semester, and it's my last weekend of putting up with the fat fuck I happen to share a living space with. In that spirit, it's about time to reveal what Pissy's Average Weekend is like.

On Friday, I get up after Fatass so that I can change into my towel in my room and then go take a shower. I then go to work for a couple of hours, then have an hour break, and then to class and then work again.

And then, I'm forced to return to the place that I hate the most - my room. Fatass is usually sitting on the floor, resting his bulbous head against the side of my bed while playing video games, and Bitchface is usually sitting down right next to him, cuddling up to his fat and reading her book. This weekend was no different. I step over them, I check my email, I ignore them.

Eventually, Fatass leaves for wherever the hell he goes to meet Bess. The first thing I do at that moment is open the blinds. He may fear The Red Car, but I have no such paranoia, and I happen to like natural light, no matter what Ma Pissy thinks.

I then unplug my headphones, because those are only used when he's in the room so I can ignore him. I turn the TV up, I settle down at my desk and then do whatever I wish.

On Saturday, he and Bess return to the room while I'm asleep for some unknown reason. She scoffs because I'm sleeping and he sets his bag on his bed - you know, things that can wait until 11:30 when I typically wake up on weekends.

I usually go to work, and they come back at some point so they can get to fucking. Fortunately, because I'm at work, I don't have to deal with that shit. I get back from work later on at night, and they're typically off doing whatever at Bess's grandma's house.

On Sunday, it's the exact same thing. I go to work, they come back to fuck and leave, and then I get back and have to deal with the raw stink of their hideous bodies.

This weekend, however, is different. Because of finals week, I'm not working this weekend. I have studying that I need to do, so I'm going to be holed up with books and notes all weekend. Fatass is pissed about it because he doesn't get a chance to fuck. But that's okay! He's found a way around that, just like everything!

Last night, as he talked to Bess, he said, "Oh, it's okay. Pissy gave us the room for an hour."

No I fucking didn't, and I called him on it. He gets off the phone and tells me it's only an hour, and he'd appreciate any consideration I could give him. I chuckled a little and said whatever.

So at some point, they're going to fuck for an hour, while I've gotten next to zero this entire damn year (sorry to friends who don't need to know that about me, but I'm just sayin'). I mean, they can't go six goddamn days? That's a pretty big fucking issue. Here's a novel idea - give yourself the ol' low five for a fucking weekend and get back to your normal schedule next weekend.

So here's my plan for when they come back. Contrary to Fatass's belief, I've got friends up here. I'm going to use these friends. All Big State University friends that read this blog, kindly stop by the room on my cue and knock on his door to disrupt their shit. If they get an hour, they're going to have the most hellish hour in the history of attempted fucking. I will do my part and call in a quiet hours violation on their cowfucking. I'll kindly explain to the RA on duty that I reluctantly agreed to their use of the room for an hour, but my attempts at studying in the lounge are being hindered by their disgusting sex noises. Kharmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

I'm sick and tired of his complete lack of respect for me that he tries to play off as being nice. As one of my favorite professors up here says, "You can't bullshit a bullshitter." And despite being smacked down at every chance, he still tries and tries and tries.

So now I'm in a situation where I need to go out with a bang. I need to do something to show him that I hate every single ounce of him while being creative. The thought of the note with the blog link seems to simple and could result in unwanted hate mail that I'd be too lazy to delete, so I don't know. Any thoughts from you all?

So... what the fuck?

My room when Fatass is here.

Apparently it's now cool for anyone and everyone to come over to my room on the GOD DAMN WEEK BEFORE FINALS. His junkie brother is now in the room just standing around and talking to Fatass, and of course, Bitchface is here. Why wouldn't she be?

So she begins by saying, "I wouldn't be over here if it weren't for my suitemates being bitches." Oh I'm sorry, but you know what? That's not my fucking problem. If you have problems with your suitemates, you talk to the RA or do what I do and make an angry, passive-aggressive blog. But you do NOT come to other people's rooms on the week before finals and be obnoxiously loud and play video games!

Seriously, it's like I live in a world where respect and courtesy have never even been heard of. But seriously. What. The. Fuck. They're talking at obnoxiously loud volume about a fucking flashlight. I guess we haven't comprehended the concept of "light" around here. And now they go ahead and talk trash about the same kid again. I guess they need to compensate for their lack of dicks by continuing to make idle threats.

Yup, and we're still being obnoxious douchebags, and now my urge to kill is rising. Seriously, no goddamn courtesy. And you wonder why they got kicked out of Bitchface's suite. Fuck. This. Shit.

To my Cousin, the Fed,

Get your ass up here. NOW. Gun is preferred but not required.

Thanks,
Pissy

I am done with this shit.

Take your bitching to someone who gives a damn

Fatass (over)reacting to my
legitimate need to do homework today.
Yes, he does look like this all the time.

Fatass officially crossed the line today. I came back from work and needed to do a gigantic heap of homework, all of which needed to be done on my laptop, because that's generally the way of things these days, even if Fatass hasn't picked up on it yet.

So anyway, I have to do work and Fatass and Bitchface are, of course, sitting on his bed doing nothing in particular, which makes me think they've been making out. I'm probably not that far off, either. So I sit down and we do the usual "how was your day" bullshit that I just zone out during.

Then I start typing up my paper because that's what normal college students do. He looks at me and then at my computer screen and then back at me.

"So... you doing homework?"

Nope, I'm just writing essays about the 2008 recession for my health. So he groans and tells Bitchface that they're going to go to the lounge, because he knows better than to ask me if she can stay while I'm doing work. I've already laid down the law about that once this past fall.

So he comes rolling back into the room about 10 minutes later and I'm still typing away, but this time I have the TV on. I find that if I have background noise going, I'm able to relax a little more and get my work done. Fatass just glares at the screen and then back at me.

"How's the homework coming?"

Not bad at all, you pretentious dicklicking fuck. It doesn't, has never, and will never ever in a hundred billion years and beyond matter what you think. And that just doesn't go for me either, you fat as hell waste of space. Not a single soul will give a damn about what you think for the rest of your pathetic, meaningless existence. You know why? Because respect isn't given. It's earned. And you haven't earned jacksquat. So you can take your bitchtits, your two annoying jaded bitches, and your horrendous smells right to the streets, because that's the only place that will ever be home to you.

So then I go to my group meeting, and I come back, and there are Fatass and Bitchface again, both of them glaring at me. I considered giving them the double bird, but decided it'd piss them off more for me to just get back to work. I start typing away, and the massive putrid wart goes on and calls one of the random people in his life that barely tolerate him. He gabs away for some stupid thing for about 10 minutes, trying to get under my skin, periodically looking over at my screen.

I've now realized that he has piss poor vision because I was typing nothing but insults at him in a Word document the whole time. So finally he runs out of shit to say, or, more likely, he's pushed off the phone by whoever he was talking to, groans, and then him and Bitchface leave again.

K-Star says that Fatass is a boil on the ass of humanity. I pretty much agree, but add "hairy" and "smelly" to the metaphor. K-Star has also realized, through Skype being able to pick up all audio from the room, that Fatass makes stereotypical fat man sounds and feels bad that I have to live with that. Two more weeks...

So now I'm settled in for the night, and Fatass asks when I have class tomorrow. What the hell? I mean, not only has it been over three months, but even still, why should I even tell you? Maybe if you started caring about your own classes rather than mine, you wouldn't have to panic about all your classes in the next 2 weeks.

Oh, by the way, I spoke with one of your classmates after you finished your exam in 5 minutes the other day. The teacher took one look at it and shook her head.

As one final side note, Fatass told Bess the other night that it is impossible to surprise him. More being een-veen-cee-bull. It is apparently "literally impossible" to surprise Fatass. I got two words for you. Surprise, motherfucker.

I guess it IS Easter...

The propoganda Fatass used to lure
a then-16 year old into bed with him.

... but that does NOT give you an excuse for fucking like jackrabbits for a week straight. Today I walk in from work study, figuring Fatass would be in class like he normally is, seeing that he's trying to graduate this May. Nope. He and Bess are in the room fucking.

Now, I figured that he'd at least have the common decency to say "hold on a second" while they get decent, but nope. I open the door and a blanket is being hastily thrown around them. Look, I know that Bess has spread her legs so wide this week that even Madonna is getting jealous, but I do not want or care to see their fat naked bodies pressed up against each other while the scent of Fishy Joe's fills the entire room.

I mean, I don't think it's that much to ask, really. There are almost 3 weeks left in the semester, and it's to the point where even as a communications major, I have shit to do. Right now, I'm typing away in a computer lab because I'm sexed out of my room. It's a good thing I've already finished my major project that's due on Friday. Did that this afternoon, because I had a feeling after spending every night fucking at Bess's grandma's house, they'd come back here for some afternoon delight at my own expense.

Don't get me wrong. I don't mind afternoon sex. Hell, if I wasn't so busy, I'd try to be a member of the Starland Vocal Band, but no. College ain't about this. It took me a good long while to learn that, but it's cool to do whatever on the weekends (IF YOUR ROOMMATE IS OKAY WITH IT), but once Monday hits, it's business in the mornings and afternoons.

Fatass, I've tried to talk to you about it and I've tried to reason with you, but this just crosses the line. Next time I see your fat hairy ass sticking out from under a blanket while you smother your girlfriend in your bitchtits, I am going to take that knife that you hide in your closet and chop your fucking balls off. I'm sick of this shit.

As you all can see, I've picked one hell of a time to start the blog back up. After seeing much more of Fatass and Bess than I would ever care to see, I proceeded to vomit in my mouth, like any other human being that has... what's the word I'm looking for? Oh yeah. MORALS. Anywho, after that, he has the nads to say to me, "Sorry for the mess."

Yeah, you're lucky I'm not having a bad day or I would have said something to the tune of, "Hey, if you're cool with your mantits, I guess it's not my place to compl... oh, you're talking about the clothes on the floor." Damn you, hindsight.

So now my day (and night, by association) has been ruined. I've been scarred for life, I've gotta deal with the horrific smell of the wharf in my room for the rest of the day, and I've got to actually be in my room to do the rest of my homework. I'm not sure Fatass knows what that is, unless he breaks it down into small syllables, but even then, I think he may think "home" means "pussy" and "work" means "cock". Yeah, maybe in porno films. And I've got news for ya, buddy. Your prick isn't big enough.

What I've been up to

What have I been doing?
I've been busy being a ninja, of course!

So yes, yes, yes. I'm an asshole for not updating, but I've been working hard on passing school and all that stuff, so it's taken up a significant chunk of time. I've also been busy perfecting my mad ninja skills, so as you can plainly see, I've had quite the month.

So what have you missed? Well, it seems that Bess finally turned 18, but she's still 4 or 5 years younger than Fatass, so that doesn't make it any less creepy. Bitchface has been over nearly every day to torment my soul.

Fatass has still not learned the value of wearing a shirt. And also, he apparently broke his glasses when he threw them across the room in a fit of rage. Then he had to wear contacts and then got pissed because he kept ripping them or some stupid thing. I don't pay attention to his life. I just laugh at the snippets of irrational anger. He finally apparently fixed his glasses with electrical tape, so good for him.

An interesting, douchebaggy moment that happened over the past month was when we were apparently waiting in the Subway line together. I was busy looking over an assignment I had to submit for class the next day, so I wasn't paying attention to anyone, let alone his fat fucking ass. So I guess him and Bitchface were in line right behind me and were calling me "Scruffy" to get my attention. Granted, I was growing out my beard at the time, but I do not respond to things besides my name or "Pissy". So they're both laughing about how soooooooooooo very clever they are. He finally waves his hand in front of my paper. I was about to punch him in his fat face. I told him, "yeah, busy doing schoolwork," and turned back around. Jesus Christ, he's a prick.

So yep, nothing has changed. He's still a freaking douchebag, and that probably won't be changing any time soon.

"You'll only see me for a few seconds"

So on Friday, Fatass gave me some good news, but as you should always be wary of with this fat dickless fuck is the fact that there is always, always, ALWAYS a silver lining. For example, Friday he said, "Oh, you'll be able to enjoy the room all to yourself this entire weekend. You may see me for a few seconds, but that's it." Yeah, I've heard that one before.

So today, as I'm relaxing by playing a video game, guess what I hear? That's right, the familiar punches of the lock to my room. And who comes in? Not only Fatass, but Bess. Hey, there goes the few seconds! Fat fucking fuck. Remember how he was going to kill Bess if she was sick and contagious? Well, she's here now and she's coughing and sick. If she gets ME sick, I'm going to be really pissed off at both of them. Bess may be a confused little girl, but she doesn't put Fatass in line worth a damn, so fuck her too.

So I figure that maybe Fatass was just dropping off his books or something, but no way! He asks Bess what she wants to do. Obviously they want to fuck, but they won't say as much because apparently the cows that raised them taught them it's not polite to bring that up in conversation. Besides, you two mash hideous bodies every god damn weekend. It's been three fucking months since I've even TOUCHED K-Star, let alone massage her naughty parts.

So they're trying to get back at me for being in the room by turning on a shitty Vin Diesel movie while I'm trying to watch TV. What do I do? I turn up the TV louder. Says Fatass, "this isn't too loud for you, is it?" Nope, I'm just turning up the TV because I've developed sudden acute deafness.

So I've moved to my bed, and guess what I see? That's right, asscrack ahoy. He's got his shirt lifted up so that his belly is flopping against Bess's back (because hey, she might be into that), and he's rubbing her sides and making out with her and all this stupid shit, thinking that I'm just going to magically leave. Ah, it's apparently The Chronicles of Riddick, which ties into their love of shitty sci fi that everybody else hates. At least Judi Dench (M in the James Bond films) and the guy who voices over the Marines commercials is in it. That makes me laugh a little bit.

So, the point is that I'm not being sexiled this weekend. They had two fucking nights at Bess's grandma's house to fuck, so they're getting no action tonight.

Oh, did I mention that when they first got here, Fatass just left for five minutes to talk to someone, leaving Bess alone with the room with me? Hey, I'm not a fucking entertainer here, so I just sat there and played my game while she sat on his bed. I didn't say a word to her and I didn't even look at her. Eventually she left. Maybe she thinks I'm creepy, but fuck that bitch. I don't even care. Fuck them both in their necks.

I am eenveen-cee-bull?

So apparently, the gene pool is further stained than just Fatass and his inbred sister. It would appear that Fatass has a brother. I know this because he's sitting on Fatass's god damn fucking bed. When I got back to the room from dinner, here's this random guy sitting on Fatass's bed. He introduces himself as the Brother of Fatass. So hey, thanks for telling me, you fucking dickless white trash cumguzzlers.

So now they're both sitting on his bed and Fatass starts bragging about how he threw some chick's shoes into the bathroom and how he got away with a written reprimand and blah blah blah. More Boris Grishenko shit that makes me want to take a cast iron skillet and give him a homerun swing to the teeth.

So yeah, gotta say, this conversation is pretty fucking stupid. They're talking shit about their own sister or something, and how she's a slut or whatever. I'm really trying not to listen because I generally don't like blue collar comedy. The only plus out of this whole god damn fucking thing is that Fatass actually has a shirt on.

It's so awkward. They're sitting on the side of his bed, and they're both facing me and Fatass is kind of looking at me in between glancing at Brother of Fatass while talking about video games. Hey asshole, if you're staring at me to try to read my mind, read this: "FUCK. YOU."