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.

"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."

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.

Yeah, pretty sure this is my bed

Who the fuck do they think they are? I mean, seriously. I know the TV is facing my side of the room when not turned, but it's fucking turned toward his bed. Why, therefore, do Fatass and Bitchface feel it necessary to lean right up against the side of my bed to play video games or type on the laptop or do their general weirdness. If it wasn't for a love of all things that belong to me, I would take a big ol' dump and rub the shit on the side of the bed they lean against. Seriously, fuck them.

The good thing about Bitchface is that she's stopped talking to me. Apparently, she's still holding a grudge from mid to late-November when I told her that it was none of her business what I was doing on my laptop. Hey, usually I don't like being hated, but in this case, the feeling is mutual, bitch. The less you talk to me, the better I feel.

Speaking of Fatass and Bitchface, they do this creepy thing every night before she leaves. They hug. Every night. He's about 5 inches taller than her, so it's inevitable that she gets a face full of mantits. And now he's petting her head. Yeah, if they're not fucking, I'm the Pope. So now, Bitchface is sitting on Fatass's bed, snuggling up to his blanket and just in the fetal position. This is beyond fucked up. At least I can just sit there and be silent and only speak when spoken to. I was asked how my day was. I lied, because fuck it. I don't want to talk to them. I'm happy being in my own little silent shell, but Fatass is in for a surprise at the end of the school year. I might just take a big ol' shit on his bed right before I leave for home.

Thankfully, they've now left. They're taking a walk or some stupid thing that makes me think they're fucking. Anyway, after a shitty day, I'm ready to just unwind, but stupid shit sucks. I haven't killed them yet, though.