Fatass fails a class in record time

How Fatass avoids studying.

And the results are in from Fatass's test. Thanks to my friend in the same class that Fatass is failing, I am quite pleased to report that Fatass not only finished the test first in his class, but also that his professor shook her head in disappointment when she saw  his retarded answers. Now he has neither the means to graduate nor the money to come back to complete the degree. Say hello to minimum wage!

While I should probably feel bad about it, I instead feel a strange sense of justice in the fact that this colossal douchebag will not be allowed to have any sort of degree beyond a high school diploma. So now he's talking to Bess on the phone and getting all pissy at her for whatever reason. Then he says, "I have you all to myself on Friday, so I may have to punish you." I vomited in my mouth.

But today was cleaning day for me. While Fatass was gone, I was able to take down all my posters and pack some of the stuff that I don't need over the next two days. I then broke out the broom and swept up my side of the room. Funny thing though: those massive dustbunnies just completely coincidentally seemed to gravitate to the area under his bed. I think it may have to do with his stench.

So let's see... I'm looking around me... all I have to do is pack up my floor lamp and my laptop, take my sheets and pillows out, and bring my TV and fridge back into the car. Oh, and I also have a personal goal of not saying anything to Fatass on the way out, otherwise he may get bombarded with words he can't comprehend about how awful he is.

After today, two days until I'm fucking out of here and I never have to see his hairy bitchtits ever again. But for now, he's laying facing me and of course his shirt is off, so I get to see just how far they sag down his fat body. Fantastic.

Finals Week Bitching: Day 1 of 4



Chris Hansen:
Fatass's mortal enemy
and worst nightmare.

 So it is officially that time. It's finals week, which means that I'm in an intense state of studying. However, I think that it's more than appropriate to update all of you on the dumb shit my roommate does. Shall we start with when he came back last night? After all, that's when all the bullshit started again.

Well, it first started with him closing the blinds and glaring at me, because in his mind, it's a sin and a felony that I don't fear The Red Truck. So you knwo what I did today after I got back from my final? That's right, the blinds are open again. Funny thing is that there really is a red truck out there. I kinda want Fatass to see so that he'll start panicking, but I don't want to deal with the smell of him shitting himself.

Back to last night... I'm sitting at my computer reading over some notes and watching an episode of "The Office" on my computer as background noise. I hear Fatass bang his hand into the door as he enters the code, which makes me snicker. He lumbers into the room and guess who's in his wake? That's right, it's Bitchface! Obviously you've seen that he has no problem stepping over lines. Habitually. He's a habitual line-stepper (thanks Charlie Murphy). So why would last night be any different? Well, for one, I put a kabosh on that bullshit right away. I said, "Whoa now. I'm studying here."

"Oh, it's ok. We're just going to eat and then she's going to leave... if that's okay with you."

Oh yeah, sure. How about I knock all your teeth out so you can eat through a straw from now on, you fucking prick? How about this. How about for once in your miserable life, you decide to be somewhat respectful of someone else's need to study and get out.

I mean, he walks around this room like he owns the place, which is pretty pathetic. He owns this room which is smaller than my room at home and it's like he's the king of it. Well, unfortunately the world has news for him: just because you're a fat fuck does not mean that you're entitled to everything on earth. Being a big man does not mean that you've got a big personality. Honestly, he's nothing but a bitchtit swinging bully who needs to grow up. If it was anyone else, they would have punched the kid in the face. I, however, have more enjoyable ways of tormenting his soul... like leaving a little sticky note on his pillow with the link to my blog when all is said and done.

Therefore, it's time for an open letter!

Dear Fatass,

I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR MALODOROUS PATHETIC LIFE.

Cordially,
Pissy

P.S.: Chris Hansen called. He wants you to have a seat over there.

Revenge, best served funky

So I decided to get a little bit of payback tonight because of Fatass's heightened douchebaggery over the past 24 hours. Apparently, in his world, it's 11pm bedtime, and anyone that stays up later than that should be shunned.

So after this gay assed chick flick that I didn't pay attention to, no matter how much they wanted me to, they decided that the time was right to sleep. Normally, I'd shut my light off, but not tonight. K-Star and Funkmaster were having their own little party in K-Star's room, and since I'm a few hours away and I have to work in the morning, I figured I'd join too. So I used the wonders of video chat and we decided to have our own party. I bought a 2 liter of Diet Mountain Dew (nectar of Gods), and we played power hour. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's 60 shots of beer in 60 minutes. The particular power hour we played was synched to punk pop hits from the late 90s and early 00s. Awesome time.

So I turn off the main light and turn on my desk light, and start jamming away. Fatass, very irritated, looks at me jamming out and goes, "Uh, are you okay?"

Shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch. For once, I'm having a good time while you're in the room, mainly because I'm ignoring you. By you opening your fat cakehole, you're ruining my fun. So he wants to know about what I'm doing and I just tell him that it's power hour. Like I assumed, he had no fucking clue as to what I was talking about, so eat shit.

Bess is apparently another early-to-bedder, but seriously. 11pm on a Friday night. I'm not going to concede my entire god damn night just because you two want to do your own thing and go to bed early. You know what they have for that? HOTEL ROOMS. I know a Travelodge a few hours away that's just as skeevy as the two of you.

So anyway, they should just consider themselves god damn lucky that I had my headphones in the whole time. I would have made it MUCH worse than fucking Spongebob. But yeah, fuck them all. Just glad that for a night, Mr. Pissy was in the driver's seat. Fuck Fatass. Fatass sucks.