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?

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.

Getting pulled back in

Fatass enjoying his lunch.

Hello my pissy friends! Yes, it's been a while! I've been trying to do this whole zen thing about the situation I'm in with my fucking fatass roommate, but you know what? It didn't work. I tried letting things slide. I tried reminding myself there were only X amount of weeks left. But nope, the stupid bullshit just continues and once again, I'm at my tipping point. It's back to the point where I want to knock whatever remains of his redneck teeth down his throat.

Apparently, this week is Bess's spring break week, since, you know, SHE'S STILL IN GOD DAMN HIGH SCHOOL!!!!

So that means that Fatass has probably shoved his needledick inside her at least once a day. It must be true because it smells worst than Salty's Crabs Shack. But whatever, even hideous, ugly douchebags need sex too. Fine, whatever. What really gives me a problem is when they do it in my room when she's not even supposed to be here without him giving me 24 hours notice. Again and again I've reminded him, and again and again, he's just been too much of an inconsiderate asshole to respect it.

So Bitchface has been over every goddamn day and now that Bess is on spring break, it means that she's over too. In today's Awkward Theater, I present to you the instance where I go into my room on my break in between classes and there's Bess just laying there playing video games, Fatass nowhere to be found. I say, "oh, hi." She says nothing back. Just looks at me and goes back to her video games. Look, I know introversion. K-Star is an introvert and it takes a lot for her to talk to people, but to be an outright cold fucking bitch to the person who can easily kick you out of the room? Not smart. The only reason why I didn't was because I was leaving in a half hour. Fucking. Bitch.

So let's recap, shall we? Not only is it apparently cool to have Bitchface and Bess over whenever he goddamn well pleases, but it's also cool to just leave her in the room when I have explicitly said no lady visitors without 24 hour notice. Fucking A, he's going to piss off the wrong person and get murdered someday. And you know what? It won't be a moment too soon. Go fuck yourself, you fat fuck.

The last time I'm nice to Fatass

So what the fuck? Fatass says he only needs an hour. Says that at 8 o'clock, everything will be done, they'll be dressed, and they'd probably be out the door. At 8:10, I knock on the door. "Hold on a minute!!!"

What. The fuck. I'm nice and I give you an extra 10 goddamn minutes and how do I get thanked? "Hold on a minute!!!!" Fucking. Douchebag. I am done with him. He even TRIES to talk to me, I'm gonna flip shit on him. I ignored him when he said, "We'll be back later," after walking out the door. I was really tempted to tell them not to fucking come back. What a schmuck. What a fatass hillbilly pedophile schmuck.

Sure, I'm probably overreacting. I don't care. I've given him enough opportunities to not be a fucking cock, but at every point, he finds new ways to raise the bar. Ten minutes probably isn't that big of an issue, but it's not just the 10 minutes. It's the 10 minutes on top of having a mousey looking bitch over every goddamn night, making me listen to him lie to his girlfriend about it, and then dealing with the horrendous odor constantly coming from his body.

So yeah, what the fuck.

Fat fucking

So I was just settling into the blergosphere, preparing to type up my efforts of avoiding Fatass while he was at work, but just as I begin to think up a title, he comes walking into my room. Yup, my headphones are still blasting music. Yup, he still tried to talk to me. And guess who's with him! If you guessed former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, you'd be close. It's Bitchface! You know, the girl that Bess doesn't want to have over because of the clear creepiness and the belief of the entire universe that she's fucking him. So instead of saying, "Hey, Bess is coming over. You're gonna have to leave," he decides that it's cool to have Bitchface in the room.

He hangs up and then tells Bitchface, "We've got 20 minutes." Umm... 20 minutes to do what? If you're trying to get her to give you a quickie beej, that's not happening with me in the room. I may just go Izzy Alcantara on them and throw them out the window.

And now Fatass is going into the bathroom to shave. Leaving Bitchface in the room with me. She's just drawing something she calls "art", and I'm sitting here typing mean things about her on a blog. Score one for Mr. Pissed. And yup, the shirt's off, so that means that bitchtits are on display. Are you really surprised at this point? I know I'm not.

So anyway, I'm assuming that Bitchface will be hitting the bricks when Bess gets here. If not, that's just going to be plain fucking awkward. Should be a great night in Generic Residence Hall though. I'll be seeing the trifecta of people I wish would have their genitals forcibly removed so they won't ever be allowed to feel pleasure. Sounds delightful.

Apparently yesterday or today or sometime in the next year is Fatass and Bess's anniversary. You know, marking a year since he asked her to be his underage illegal lover. Oh, the memories they must share. So you know what that means for yours truly tonight, boys and girls? That's right, tonight I will be asked at some point to leave the room for an hour, without being offered anything. Normally, if I'm going to sexile someone and they would normally be in the room, I'll give them five bucks and ask them to go downtown, with the five bucks going toward the miniscule amount of gas it takes to drive downtown (since the campus IS downtown), or to get food or whatever. You know what I get? A shrug and an eyefull of asscrack. Fucking. Douchebag.

Hell, when K-Star is up, I plan our fucking around times when the room will be empty, like a normal person. I have to work tomorrow. If I were the one sexiling, I would wait until the person left for work, and then just make sure to finish things up before they came back. But nope, Fatass is a selfish fuck that will be sexiling me in the weather that's in the teens and won't think anything else of it. "But Pissy," you say, "how do you know this will happen? This seems like a lot of speculation!" How do I know? I know because it's happened before and it will happen again.

And now Fatass is asking Bess if Bitchface can go to dinner with them. If this is their anniversary and he's only taking her to the dining hall, wow buddy. But to invite Bitchface to come along too? That is the height of being a fucking cock. So now Bess is going to be a little while longer, so Bitchface is in the room. I don't know if Bitchface will be able to eat without Fatass there. I guess some mysteries are best left uncared about. But seriously, what the fuck?

And now he's pissed that Bess is calling again. He shouts, "Someone better have died!!!" Uh, wow. Just break up with her and you don't have to hide the fact you're fucking Bitchface anymore. But nope, that makes sense and that would be the decent thing to do. As we all know by now, Fatass has no decency in his entire body, and believe me, there's a LOT of body there.

So you know what I'm going to do tonight until I'm inevitably kicked out? I'm going to be That Guy. You know, the roommate that just sits on his bed and refuses to leave until something is said. Like I've said before, I'm paying $3,000 for this room, so I'm not going to do a fucking douchebag any favors.

Oh, apparently Bitchface is still having problems with her roommate and that's why she's here today. Whatever makes you sleep at night, buddy. And there it is. He wants the room for an hour at 7 o'clock. God forbid he wait until tomorrow when I'm at work to be fucking. I mean, I get it. Sex is good. It's something that I thoroughly enjoy. But come on. Grow up and realize that sometimes you can't fuck whenever you want. That's a part of being an adult. You realize that though sex is really good, you can't have it whenever you want. So now, my plan is to go to dinner at 7, and then come back at 8. You know why? Because I'm That Guy.

Anyway, my pissy mood has been mildly supressed by the fact that K-Star and her awesome roommate Funkmaster have offered to let me in on their reindeer games tonight via Skype. I'm a loser, but it's cool. AND NOW FATASS IS APOLOGIZING TO BITCHFACE THAT HE HAS PLANS TONIGHT!?!?!?!

What in the God damn fucking hell? Seriously, Bess is supposed to be your fucking girlfriend! Here's something you should try. You should try apologizing to your GIRLFRIEND for having another girl in your room every night. Anyway, I'm giving them exactly one hour. I'm going to dinner at 7, and I'm coming back at 8. You know why? That's right. It's because I'm That Guy. Get the picture? Thought so. I have no reason to be nice to this guy and drive downtown, so I'm not going to. They get one hour.

"Hold on there, toots." That's what he said to Bitchface after Bess called. He told Bitchface to hold on while he talked to his girlfriend. What. The. Fuck. Seriously, you should be the first of many in a new government program to sterilize the retarded. Maybe that's a little too Texas tough for some people, but I like it.

So now they just left. Bess is dropping her bag off in the room and then they're all going to dinner. Hope they don't go past 7 at dinner. Just sayin'. Anyway, it's time to wrap this up. If you guys feel an earthquake in your region, don't be alarmed. Just try not to think about it too much.

Postscript: As I was walking back to the room today, I was stuck behind two guys. As we crossed the street, we passed a group of girls that they deemed to be good looking. They proceed to say, "Bay-bay, can I holla?" Now, I'm not sure what this means. To my female readers, what is the proper response to that? Do you say, "Yes you may?" I'm confused.