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.