A Merry Christmas it is!

I haven't showered in days, my room is dirty, I haven't finished my Christmas shopping, I have been in pajamas for almost 24 hours, my stuff on eBay isn't selling, I am addicted to playing "Jetman" on Facebook, I just received my yearly email from FutureMe.org and realized that I have accomplished nothing in the past year, I've been watching Everybody Loves Raymond on a daily basis, and my iPod is still broken.

The amount of activity that has taken place in my brain over the past ten days has been so low that I should be considered comatose.

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Just In Case You're On Acid...

Just in case you're on acid, I've created a new theme to make your trip a lot more enjoyable.

In other news, I am home for 5 weeks. Five incredible, mouth-watering, James-less weeks in which I will be staying up every night until 3AM watching On Demand and sleeping every day until 1.

I really know how to make the most out of life.

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Once Again, Thank You James!

James has been straightening his hair lately. His reasoning: "I want to look more Asian."

Once again, I find myself speechless.

Also, I have now formed a fairly strong addiction to Guitar Hero. James bought the latest edition (which is pretty much the only good thing he's done since I've met him). I have mastered the "easy" level and am in the process of mastering the "medium" level. My goal for the week is to become a novice at the "hard" level. I'm sure you're happy to hear that along with soaking up every ounce of the college experience, I've also set some extremely productive and impressive goals for myself.

Lastly, if James follows me to the school cafeteria ONE MORE TIME I think that I'm going to literally throw myself under a bus en route. Every time I go to leave the room he asks, "Are you going to eat?" If I say "Yes" he then says "Oh, can I come with?"

The answer, James, even though I'm far too fake of a person to say this to your face, is a definite NO. NO action that involves ME being in the presence of YOU is EVER okay.

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34584953242385809.4 Things I Hate About James

So today James sat and also stepped in dog shit. Yes, both.

He then decided that cleaning his clothing in OUR SINK would be appropriate. Yes, our SINK. The fact that James and I can be classified as the same species is truly scary.

When he left our room after contaminating our bathroom, he took out my trash. Now I can't even say anything to him.

I fucking hate him.

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There Is 100% No Reason For Me To Post Right Now

Nothing is new really. James (my fat roommate... i have decided to address him by his proper name in this entry because having to type "my fat roommate" is far too much effort for my fingers to engage in. Actually, now that I look back, it was probably more effort for me to type that entire last parenthetical sentence than to just say "my fat roommate" whenever necessary, but anyway...) is just as bizarre as usual. I have gone home this weekend. I also went home last weekend.

This weekend was good, actually. Nothing remarkably heinous occurred (likely because I was not in the presence of James and I didn't have to dodge overflowed toilets that were viciously mauled and attacked by the bodily substances of my other roommate). In fact, the most heinous thing that has occurred this weekend has been being disconnected from the internet twice whilst typing this entry.

Actually, wait. That is a lie. The MOST heinous thing that happened this weekend took place at around 6:00 PM today when I was forced against my will to complete an Alcohol Education online workshop thingamajigerfuckyouevilbastardsihopeyoudie for my college that took over three hours. THREE HOURS!!!!!!!! I tried to "test out" at the beginning (even if you do test out you still have to listen to all of the videos and answer questions/complete a survey after each one) however I failed and thus probably had to do even more work than necessary.

Okay, I have run out of things to say. I'm going to watch TV now. Goodbye.

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Dorm Vogue

Here is the most recent conversation between me and my fat roommate:

Him: "We should all wear matching sweaters to convocation tomorrow!"

Me: "Are you serious?"

Him: "Yeah!"

Me: "I don't even have sweaters."

Him: "You don't!??! No sweater vests or anything?!?!?"

Me: "No."

Him: "That's so weird. That's like all I wear."

Yesterday he referred to himself as a "fashionista" (while his ass crack was hanging out, of course). Perhaps I should express my gratitude towards him for his expert advice.

#$@$*()#%*#*%$&(#.

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Things Are Great!

Update: I have moved into college and now live with two other people.

Update #2: One of them got absolutely shitfaced last night and overflowed our toilet after throwing up multiple times.

Update #3: The other is about 400+ lbs and he buys clothes that are too small for him which results in his asscrack/stomach always hanging out. Sometimes both at the same time. Obviously this sense of fashion is very much appreciated.

Update #4: My fat roommate the first day we moved in made the comment that Sam (the abrasive drunk) and I both use "salon products on our hair". He then proceeded to specify that we both use "Paul Mitchell" and followed up with "am I the only one that doesn't?" a) I don't appreciate that comment being made. b) I hadn't even showered yet/had my shampoo out of my drawer so clearly he went through my stuff and clearly I also do not appreciate that.

Update #5: I hate people. I need to live alone. Forever. And ever. And ever. AND EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Update #6: The cafeteria food here has laxatives in it.

Update #7: My abrasive drunk roommate buys the cheapest water in the entire world and doesn't drink any of it yet drinks all of my high quality Poland Springs water.

Update #8: It smells like someone peed all over my room because it's covered in toilet water.

To sum up, I am enjoying my college experience.

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