pardon my vent.

dear roomate from hell,

please stop talking on speakerphone to people you haven’t ever met in the middle of the night. which reminds me, while i’m sleeping, i would not like to be a participant in your webcam escapades so you and your online friends can have a good laugh at how i sleep. while you’re at that, you can also eliminate the phrases “are you serious?” and “lame” from your vocabulary because you’ve certainly ruined both for me and i’ll never be able to use them again without being reminded of you. and for the last time, YES those are real apples that are in your oatmeal. they have enlarged and reconstituted themselves with the addition of hot water, something i’m still waiting for your brain to do. looking at your face also makes me sad so if you could take heed and cover it up while i’m around, it would make me less homesick. anything like a bag or freddie crouger mask will do. also, having 900-something friends on myspace DOES make you a whore, and most people who name unicorns as a favorite band have heard more than three songs and can name more than one.

feeling mean


4 thoughts on “pardon my vent.

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