Ibee Pissy's Day Off

Fatass sprinting so that he
can be first to my room and
engage in awkward conversations.

He lost.

It's a 2nd Day of May Miracle: Fatass is wearing a shirt that he decided to keep the sleeves attached to! That means no more rolling waves of fat slithering every time he makes any sort of movement... well at least for today.

Today started out well enough. I made it to my class JUST on time (I was actually running to class out of fear of being late, then hearing my professor call out, "no need to run, I'm behind you."). I had a great lab session where I absolutely aced it, and then decided to go to lunch before my next class. As I was relaxing and eating, I spotted it.

Like a scene in a horror film where the murderer just slowly appears out of nowhere, Fatass's rolls became visible at the "take-out" line, which was about 50 feet away from me. I panicked and dropped some tomato sauce on my shorts. Dammit. I could feel his cold, beady eyes staring at me, doing anything to get my attention. I saw him waving, but I diverted my attention to a handy flyer on the table. Finally, the lady behind the counter was forced to work overtime to feed his fat self, so I made a break for it. As I stood up, I looked at my tomato sauce-stained pants. Fuck.

I look over at the take-out line, seeing that the slop is being loaded a mile high in his box. I had seconds to react. I needed to change my shorts, but he was headed back to the room too. I don't want to see him, and I'm not changing my shorts in the bathroom because I should be able to change my goddamn shorts in my own goddamn room. Aaaaaaaaand cue the music:

And oh, the yelling between the mother and daughter? Yeah, that's about the sound Bitchface makes on a daily basis.

I raced back to Generic Residence Hall, literally sprinting down the hallways. I climbed the three sets of stairs and made it to my room. I punched in the code, quickly looked to my left and right, and got inside, quickly shutting the door. Part one accomplished.

I quickly changed into my shorts without any signs of Fatass. I gathered my things and walked out the door, turning away and making my way down the hall. I had made it!

...

"Well hello there."

Fuck.

"I noticed something weird going on with your computer monitor. It flickers colors."

"Yeah, I know."

...

What the fuck are you doing looking at my computer monitor anyway? It's none of your god damn fucking business! I mean, there's a possibility that he just noticed it while he was getting his fat ass out of bed, but I'm a very paranoid kinda guy, so I'm willing to bet that he started trying to log into my laptop. Good thing I lock it before leaving and can guaran-damn-tee that he doesn't know my password.

So now classes are over for the day and I'm back from dinner. Fatass is talking to Bess on the phone with his shirt lifted up so that his gut can get some fresh air. So far, they've been talking for about 15 minutes (that I'm aware of), and there haven't been any gems yet.

Oh here we go. "The likelihood of you getting a job is less than me." Wow, way to be a fuck. Too bad you can't get a job because you're a psychopath lazyass bastard who can do nothing but whine and complain about every little thing.

And with that, I want to punch him in the mouth, so I'm out.

So what the fuck, right?

You're probably wondering where your favorite pissed off college student was this weekend, and I have to say that I had an awesome weekend, mainly because I was at work the whole damn time. However, I did get to think about a new story that I haven't told yet, so there is new material, albeit a couple days late. Here we go.

So back in September, while I was still nice enough to give a fuck about what Fatass is doing, I come back into the room after class. After I get settled in, he takes out this massive chef's knife and starts sharpening it. By Big State laws, you are not allowed to have any sort of that on a college campus, let alone concealing it in your fucking sock drawer.

Now, normally I'm okay with rights to carry and stuff like that. You'd be god damed to find out, but I'm actually a pretty tolerant guy. But the thing is that people actually heard the sharpening of the knife from rooms away, so the Big State University Police was called, along with the Generic Residence Hall Director. So pretty much, I hear a knock on the door and go over to open it and there's a university cop and the hall director glaring at me. I step out of the way to show Fatass sharpening his knife.

Nowadays, I'd want him to get his fucking due, but back then I felt kinda guilty for selling him out. If I knew then what I knew now, he'd be getting slapped down with a court appearance. Kinda wish he was. But the worst part of it all was that he made up a bullshit lie about his friend being a culinary arts major and he was just sharpening it for her. Riiiight.

So, they let him off with a warning, and he's thinking he's all high and mighty and invincible. Think Boris Grishenko from GoldenEye. He pretty much became an insufferable twat for the next two days, continually gloating about the fact that he pulled one over on a rent-a-cop.

What he doesn't realize is that had I known better, I would have sold him out faster than Napoleon sold the Louisiana Purchase in 1803.* But since that incident, it seems that the lesson sunk into his thick fat skull and he stopped doing stupid shit that will result in a court hearing.

I still wish he would be pimpsmacked by the law at least once, but I think that death by liquid nitrogen and then an explosion would be better.




*Your history reference for the month.

Dumb Shit My College Does

So before tonight's fun of phone calls, bed lounging, and tobacco smells, my original intent was to post about Big State U. Since I'm not tired and I'm currently enjoying a late night meal of a Subway sub, Baked Lays, and Diet Pepsi (commence corporate cocksucking), I figure I'll continue with the regularly scheduled programming.

So seriously, what the Christ, Big State U?

I realize that Generic Residence Hall was built in 1971, but you'd think that you'd be able to install new locks every once in a while??? I guess not.

This was the tangent pounding in my head at 11 o'clock this morning as I waited for Ye Olde Campus Locksmith to arrive. After my first class of the day let out early, I decided it was a good time to catch up on my blogs. So I go back to my room and the door opens just fine. I set my stuff down and fired up the computer, when I felt the need to piss. Not about to ignore nature (unlike Fatass), I walk down the hallway to the bathroom. Normally I don't close the door, but I guess I was in a hurry because the door shut behind me.

So I pissed and I washed my hands. I enter the code to get back into the room. It doesn't work. I figure my hands are just wet so I wipe them off on my shirt. I enter the code again - still nothing. So I do it about 15 more times, just to make sure I'm not being an idiot. I look up at the names on the door to make sure I'm not being an idiot of Fatass-like proportions. It's my door, all right. I look at my watch. 10:55. Fuck!

So I track a janitor down, thinking they may have a key. They don't, but they offer to find the phone number. So I follow the janitor down to the basement and into their breakroom, which is actually pretty awesome. I don't know what it is about hidden breakrooms, but it makes it seem like an awesome secret club that I just want to be a part of. I digress...

So I get the phone number for the locksmith and call them up. They say they'll be a few minutes. Clock strikes 11. FUCK! So I'm tapping my feet, my inner monologue is coming up with new curse words to describe Big State U, and somehow toward the middle of it all, I get the song "I'm Still Standing" by Elton John stuck in my head. Still can't explain that one.

The guys finally show up with a brand new lock. After they get there, it's only a matter of minutes. They unscrew the screws, take out the old lock, insert the new one, screw things back in, and we're good to go (bonus points for the most creative "That's what she said" joke out of all that). However, at this point, my watch is reading 11:07. I stay outside my room, watch as the guy opens the door with no problem, and run to class without grabbing my bag. We were being assigned groups today, and I figured it would be best to be as close to on time as possible.

So I run over to the classroom and I've got to sit in front, which means looking like a jackass and walking in front of everybody to get to the fucking seat. I sit down and he has me fill out an index card. I have no pen, because my bag is in my room. This one's on me. I was in a rush, I left my back, I suck. I take my medicine like a man. So I borrow a pen and a sheet of paper. I look like an asshole, but life goes on.

See, that's the trick about college, boys and girls. There are assholes everywhere that you can spot, but you've got to be able to spot the times that you're an asshole and correct the behavior so that you're not a constant asshole like Fatass here. We go to college to learn, and only 20% of it is in the classroom... or something like that. I don't know; I'm just making this stuff up as I go along.