For all those concerned with my living situation and well-being...
Another Facebook note for those who don't have one.
____________________________________________________
(Note: There are more funny/tragic stories about how much life sucked in the Ghetto apartment/barber shop at the bottom of this note.)
Here's the story:
I saw my old roommate as I was walking back to my apartment later in the evening. He rode up next to me and started a conversation with me. I immediately suggested out of desperation that he and I move out of our apartment at semester (the only time during which I could move, as informed by some incompetent whore working for residential life). He then said, with a smile, that he had already moved out! I, having only seen him in the apartment a total of four times (because we both mainly stayed in our own living quarters), wasn't really surprised when I hadn't seen him around in a few weeks. But that isn't really what was going through my mind at that point. My thought process was stimulated at the thought of having the possibility of leaving that shithole!!!
I asked him how exactly he got out of our horrible situation, and he told me that after calling the cops several times, he spoke to our RA, and she gave him permission to leave the complex! I COULDN'T WAIT to speak to her, so he gave me her digits.
The next day, I called her and she referred me to a person in charge of the apartment complex in which I live. I called him--his name is James Brown; awesome, huh?--and he was the coolest about my situation. Actually, I found out that my roommate, Jacqueer, (from an untold, reliable source) was caught with marijuana in our dorm and was in the process of being kicked out, and he appealed to the SGA and was acquitted of any charges! Anyway, being that our room was now infamously horrible, he asked no questions and gave me suggestions as to which rooms to move into. I then went to some other building where I was given forms to have filled out, and it was final--that whenever I felt like moving, I could!
Saturday (today), Louis Mykoff, my best friend ever, came over and helped my sick and dying self move all of my stuff to my new apartment, which, in case you were wondering, was completely across the apartment complex...
I met my roommates today, and they are REALLY cool. But seriously, anything is better than the Ghetto. As Louis said, when I walked in, they could've punched me in the face, and I still would've moved in with all the vigor that I had previously.
Now, to the part you've all wanted to get to: more funny/tragic stories about why I left the ghetto...
1. Something I neglected to mention in my last note is the fact that those morons didn't know how Air Conditioning systems work. They kept it at a constant--and I do not exaggerate--FIFTY-FIVE DEGREES!!! So, most of the time I lived in a freezer, but sometimes when the A/C system failed because those cocksuckers kept it too low and it froze the pump, it was literally 80 degrees indoors.
New stuff:
2. A few days after I wrote my note, the music system blaring against my wall was gone, replacing it with a quieter television. Though this may seem as if it is a relief, it really wasn't. BET was on every time it was on, and when I say 'when it was on', I actually mean ALL THE TIME because the television never went off. I turned it off when it needed to be turned off, but usually, I forgot, so I lived my life with a constant background rumble of Black Entertainment Television all the time.
3. The roommate on my side, Yaphag, clogged up the toilet a few weeks ago. Now, in case you forgot, I am Ian Nicolosi, and not my roommate's mother, so I absolutely REFUSED to plunge his shit for him. Consequently, it took him A WEEK AND A HALF to get off his lazy ass to plunge our toilet. (Sidenote: every time I had to poop, which, by the by, was emerald green the other day; totally bizarre, I went to the Union to go to the bathroom).
4. Notorious Bathtub Incident: Because of the aforementioned toilet stop-up scandal, Yaphet (or one of his friends) urinated in my tub... but not while the shower was on... so there were dry pee stains on the side of my bathtub where he expelled liquid over the side of the tub. No, I'm not joking.
5. Toward the end of my stay at the Holiday Inn, Yahpet would lock me out of my bathroom half of the time it was available. I don't really know why, but it was the single most aggrivating thing I have ever encountered in my life. Worse even than that noise Jim Carrey makes in "Dumb and Dumber".
6. Yaphet has only ever spoken directly to me twice. The first of which I spoke of in my last note (I think) and the latter of which happened a week ago when he asked me to clean the hair out of the drain of the bathtub when I shaved in it. Now, let's think about this. Look at my face in almost every single picture on Facebook. It is very clear that I have facial hair, correct? So, how exactly would I shave in the shower if all of the hair that I could shave is still on my body? When I politely brought this to his attention, he told me, "well, it's falling out or something, so could you clean it up?" So, this pissed me off real bad because everyone who knows me is aware that I am insecure about my hairiness, so by doing this, Yaphaggot made me aware of something that I could be even more self-conscious about. Thanks, asshole. Oh, and if you are reading, CLEAN UP THE HAIR YOURSELF BECAUSE YOU ARE A DOUCHEBAG PIECE OF SHIT AND NO ONE LIKES YOU EXCEPT FOR YOUR HOMIES WHO NEED YOU FOR A PLACE TO SLEEP AND A LAY (on tha downlow, of course)!
7. More on the 'my shit gets stolen all the time' storyline: Not thinking that theft of a towel was a possibility, I leave my towel in the bathroom after bathing. Well, come to find out, my towel mysteriously disappears out of the bathroom around a month ago. Steaming mad (THIS IS THE BEST PART OF ANY STORY I HAVE WRITTEN EVER. AND I SWEAR TO GOD THIS IS THE GOSPEL...), I approached my roommate, Yaphet, about the situation, asking him if he has seen my towel. He says that he hasn't and asks me what the towel looks like. I tell him that it's beige, and he replies--get this--"like red?"
Take a few moments to absorb what you have just read, just like I did when the situation actually happened to me.
I then said, "no....... like tan." And he told me he hadn't seen my towel and his black washcloth had also "gone missing".
Also, I came in with an almost full bottle of laundry detergent. By the time I was going to use it a third time, it was completely empty.
8. My apartment smells like Black and Milds all the time, and there are cigarette burns in the living room carpet everywhere.
9. We don't have a trash can, so you can probably guess what that means.
10. Oh, I almost forgot! I walked in the other day, only to find some guy standing around. When I approached my door, he tapped me on the shoulder, stabbed me with his switchblade, took advantage of me sexually, and took all of my money and credit cards.
Okay, so that one didn't actually happen, but it's not far from the truth, right?
I am so glad that I'm out of that awful place. Thank you all for all of your support, and I hope you had fun reading all of my sad life stories!
____________________________________________________
(Note: There are more funny/tragic stories about how much life sucked in the Ghetto apartment/barber shop at the bottom of this note.)
Here's the story:
I saw my old roommate as I was walking back to my apartment later in the evening. He rode up next to me and started a conversation with me. I immediately suggested out of desperation that he and I move out of our apartment at semester (the only time during which I could move, as informed by some incompetent whore working for residential life). He then said, with a smile, that he had already moved out! I, having only seen him in the apartment a total of four times (because we both mainly stayed in our own living quarters), wasn't really surprised when I hadn't seen him around in a few weeks. But that isn't really what was going through my mind at that point. My thought process was stimulated at the thought of having the possibility of leaving that shithole!!!
I asked him how exactly he got out of our horrible situation, and he told me that after calling the cops several times, he spoke to our RA, and she gave him permission to leave the complex! I COULDN'T WAIT to speak to her, so he gave me her digits.
The next day, I called her and she referred me to a person in charge of the apartment complex in which I live. I called him--his name is James Brown; awesome, huh?--and he was the coolest about my situation. Actually, I found out that my roommate, Jacqueer, (from an untold, reliable source) was caught with marijuana in our dorm and was in the process of being kicked out, and he appealed to the SGA and was acquitted of any charges! Anyway, being that our room was now infamously horrible, he asked no questions and gave me suggestions as to which rooms to move into. I then went to some other building where I was given forms to have filled out, and it was final--that whenever I felt like moving, I could!
Saturday (today), Louis Mykoff, my best friend ever, came over and helped my sick and dying self move all of my stuff to my new apartment, which, in case you were wondering, was completely across the apartment complex...
I met my roommates today, and they are REALLY cool. But seriously, anything is better than the Ghetto. As Louis said, when I walked in, they could've punched me in the face, and I still would've moved in with all the vigor that I had previously.
Now, to the part you've all wanted to get to: more funny/tragic stories about why I left the ghetto...
1. Something I neglected to mention in my last note is the fact that those morons didn't know how Air Conditioning systems work. They kept it at a constant--and I do not exaggerate--FIFTY-FIVE DEGREES!!! So, most of the time I lived in a freezer, but sometimes when the A/C system failed because those cocksuckers kept it too low and it froze the pump, it was literally 80 degrees indoors.
New stuff:
2. A few days after I wrote my note, the music system blaring against my wall was gone, replacing it with a quieter television. Though this may seem as if it is a relief, it really wasn't. BET was on every time it was on, and when I say 'when it was on', I actually mean ALL THE TIME because the television never went off. I turned it off when it needed to be turned off, but usually, I forgot, so I lived my life with a constant background rumble of Black Entertainment Television all the time.
3. The roommate on my side, Yaphag, clogged up the toilet a few weeks ago. Now, in case you forgot, I am Ian Nicolosi, and not my roommate's mother, so I absolutely REFUSED to plunge his shit for him. Consequently, it took him A WEEK AND A HALF to get off his lazy ass to plunge our toilet. (Sidenote: every time I had to poop, which, by the by, was emerald green the other day; totally bizarre, I went to the Union to go to the bathroom).
4. Notorious Bathtub Incident: Because of the aforementioned toilet stop-up scandal, Yaphet (or one of his friends) urinated in my tub... but not while the shower was on... so there were dry pee stains on the side of my bathtub where he expelled liquid over the side of the tub. No, I'm not joking.
5. Toward the end of my stay at the Holiday Inn, Yahpet would lock me out of my bathroom half of the time it was available. I don't really know why, but it was the single most aggrivating thing I have ever encountered in my life. Worse even than that noise Jim Carrey makes in "Dumb and Dumber".
6. Yaphet has only ever spoken directly to me twice. The first of which I spoke of in my last note (I think) and the latter of which happened a week ago when he asked me to clean the hair out of the drain of the bathtub when I shaved in it. Now, let's think about this. Look at my face in almost every single picture on Facebook. It is very clear that I have facial hair, correct? So, how exactly would I shave in the shower if all of the hair that I could shave is still on my body? When I politely brought this to his attention, he told me, "well, it's falling out or something, so could you clean it up?" So, this pissed me off real bad because everyone who knows me is aware that I am insecure about my hairiness, so by doing this, Yaphaggot made me aware of something that I could be even more self-conscious about. Thanks, asshole. Oh, and if you are reading, CLEAN UP THE HAIR YOURSELF BECAUSE YOU ARE A DOUCHEBAG PIECE OF SHIT AND NO ONE LIKES YOU EXCEPT FOR YOUR HOMIES WHO NEED YOU FOR A PLACE TO SLEEP AND A LAY (on tha downlow, of course)!
7. More on the 'my shit gets stolen all the time' storyline: Not thinking that theft of a towel was a possibility, I leave my towel in the bathroom after bathing. Well, come to find out, my towel mysteriously disappears out of the bathroom around a month ago. Steaming mad (THIS IS THE BEST PART OF ANY STORY I HAVE WRITTEN EVER. AND I SWEAR TO GOD THIS IS THE GOSPEL...), I approached my roommate, Yaphet, about the situation, asking him if he has seen my towel. He says that he hasn't and asks me what the towel looks like. I tell him that it's beige, and he replies--get this--"like red?"
Take a few moments to absorb what you have just read, just like I did when the situation actually happened to me.
I then said, "no....... like tan." And he told me he hadn't seen my towel and his black washcloth had also "gone missing".
Also, I came in with an almost full bottle of laundry detergent. By the time I was going to use it a third time, it was completely empty.
8. My apartment smells like Black and Milds all the time, and there are cigarette burns in the living room carpet everywhere.
9. We don't have a trash can, so you can probably guess what that means.
10. Oh, I almost forgot! I walked in the other day, only to find some guy standing around. When I approached my door, he tapped me on the shoulder, stabbed me with his switchblade, took advantage of me sexually, and took all of my money and credit cards.
Okay, so that one didn't actually happen, but it's not far from the truth, right?
I am so glad that I'm out of that awful place. Thank you all for all of your support, and I hope you had fun reading all of my sad life stories!