(no subject)
Well, I won money on UNC's victory. So it ain't all bad. Though I have already pulled the Micheal Bolton bit on one potential employer. I didn't get the job.
I posted this on this on the online forum I frequent. Pretty fucked up:
"Ugh. Crazy things like this almost never happen to me, but wouldn't you know that when one does, it happens to be a guy that takes a shit in my room.
So I had a banner night for insomnia last night, and didn't actually fall asleep until 8AM, a new record. It was about 5AM, nearly 2 hours after going to bed, that I gave up and went downstairs to read in the lobby. I come back about an hour later, and smell something like a dirty diaper right when I get to my floor. I think someone took a crap in the hall at first, until the smell gets stronger when I get to my room. Just then, my roomate opens the door and starts explaining himself. I thought he had shit in his bed. It wouldn't surprise me, since he does all kinds of other crazy things in his sleep. Instead, he says:
"Some guy just came in here and shit on your chair and pissed all over the floor"
" "
God bless him, the mess was almost completely cleaned up. He used his deodorant to try to hide the smell, which worked surprisingly well. So I help finish the cleaning up, and go into the bathroom for more paper towels. I ask my roomate where the guy went, and he says that the shitter is in the stall right in front of me! So I try to talk to him, and he just grunts without saying any words. Whatever. So about two minutes later, he comes out and randomly goes in a room. I thought it was his room, and that now I could nab him in the morning. I was wrong. He comes back to my end of the hall (with only a shirt on and nothing else) and knocks on my neighbor's door. I ask:
"Hey, do you realize you shit in my room?"
"Uhhh...no"
"Where the fuck do you live?"
After about five minutes of half-grunting, I understand that he's not even a student here, and that he's looking for his friends. So I go to bed. Thirty seconds later, a knock. It's this same fuckass. I close the door in his face.
2 minutes later, ANOTHER KNOCK. My roomate suggests I call 911. I open the door and he says:
"Duh, hey do you know where Brad is?"
"Hey remember me, jackass? You shit in my room!"
Despite everything, he asks if he can sleep in my room, and I tell him to go downstairs or to his friends room, which he earlier told me was room 210, but I guess he couldn't even remember that himself."
I posted this on this on the online forum I frequent. Pretty fucked up:
"Ugh. Crazy things like this almost never happen to me, but wouldn't you know that when one does, it happens to be a guy that takes a shit in my room.
So I had a banner night for insomnia last night, and didn't actually fall asleep until 8AM, a new record. It was about 5AM, nearly 2 hours after going to bed, that I gave up and went downstairs to read in the lobby. I come back about an hour later, and smell something like a dirty diaper right when I get to my floor. I think someone took a crap in the hall at first, until the smell gets stronger when I get to my room. Just then, my roomate opens the door and starts explaining himself. I thought he had shit in his bed. It wouldn't surprise me, since he does all kinds of other crazy things in his sleep. Instead, he says:
"Some guy just came in here and shit on your chair and pissed all over the floor"
" "
God bless him, the mess was almost completely cleaned up. He used his deodorant to try to hide the smell, which worked surprisingly well. So I help finish the cleaning up, and go into the bathroom for more paper towels. I ask my roomate where the guy went, and he says that the shitter is in the stall right in front of me! So I try to talk to him, and he just grunts without saying any words. Whatever. So about two minutes later, he comes out and randomly goes in a room. I thought it was his room, and that now I could nab him in the morning. I was wrong. He comes back to my end of the hall (with only a shirt on and nothing else) and knocks on my neighbor's door. I ask:
"Hey, do you realize you shit in my room?"
"Uhhh...no"
"Where the fuck do you live?"
After about five minutes of half-grunting, I understand that he's not even a student here, and that he's looking for his friends. So I go to bed. Thirty seconds later, a knock. It's this same fuckass. I close the door in his face.
2 minutes later, ANOTHER KNOCK. My roomate suggests I call 911. I open the door and he says:
"Duh, hey do you know where Brad is?"
"Hey remember me, jackass? You shit in my room!"
Despite everything, he asks if he can sleep in my room, and I tell him to go downstairs or to his friends room, which he earlier told me was room 210, but I guess he couldn't even remember that himself."