Category Archives: assholes

My Roommate Fucking Sucks

My roommate Alison fucking sucks. And here’s why:

1. The Snark of a Genius

Firstly, I should mention that Alison is a guy. Perhaps if he was a female I wouldn’t be so outwardly ferocious towards him in my rantings. Well, perhaps not. Anyway, I interviewed with Alison before I moved in to be the new roommate. It went like this:
Alison: So you don’t have to make a year commitment. You can do 6 months.
Me: Yeah, 6 months would be better.. To see if I can acclimate to the environment, you know?
A: Acclimate hm, that’s a good word (takes a swig of milk from the fridge) Haven’t used that one in like (pause, looks me straight in the eyes) two weeks.
He possesses all the quirks, and snark of a genius without the privelage of actually being one. This was definitely a red flag, and I should have known that our personalities would inevitably clash. But everyone deserves a second chance, right? Well.

2. Tangent Lectures

Alison goes on these tangent lectures where he breaks off from what appears to be casual, docile conversation, and begins these hyper political, eccentric rants.
Me: Man, I’m fucking beat from class. Seriously exhausted.
Alison: The government is in a downswing right now. People are investing money into a business structure that’s not going to exist in 50 years.
Me: Yes, Goodnight.
These lectures started just a few days in to my occupancy. I’d invited my girlfriend over for the night and we were in the middle of a quiet dinner. “Why astroids and humans have the same DNA” wasn’t exactly the dinner conversation I had in mind.

3. Alison Is A Mooch

My roommate Robert and I cooked lunch together the other day. I made some hot mustard chicken with garlic and scallions, and Rob made a pot of rice with kale and Cabbage. Enter Alison.
A: Hey guys, got some stir fry goin’ on here?
me: Yeah man. Do you want some?
A: Yeah. (casually looking away and yawning.) I think I’m gunna have a little bit.
What a pleasant way of saying thank you. he proceeded to finish off the rest of the food.

4. Alison Is In Love With My Room

After a day of class, or being gone for the weekend I will come home to find that my room has been altered, shuffled some how. A sock that was on the floor is now on my bed. My laundry bag which sat by the closet is now hanging on a hook by my door. I’ll even come home to find new things in my room. A book on my bureau that is not mine, 2 tennis balls sitting atop my bedside table. I’m been trying to decipher the intention behind these actions and objects. Is he pointing out my personal slobbery, while rewarding future cleanliness? Positive tennis ball reinforcements? Maybe he’s just fucking around in my room while I’m gone. Dear god, I hope he’s not jacking off in my bed.

5.This Morning

I woke up to the sound of two men screaming at each other. One of them was Alison. I recognized his particular whine. The other voice I didn’t recognize.
A:YO MAN, YOU’RE SUCH A DEE-BAG BRO. YOU’VE BEEN MOOCHING OFF OF ME SINCE DAY ONE.
?:FUCK YOU MAN. YO, YOU’RE LUCKY YOU’RE MY FRIEND, BECAUSE AS A BLACK MAN I SHOULD PUNCH YOU RIGHT NOW.
A: You know what man, just get your stuff and leave. I’m sick of you.
There was a loud banging on my door
?: Hey man, I need to get into your room.
It was Alison’s friend, and Ex Roommate. He had left a lot of his stuff in my closet and was picking it up. He began packing his clothes, and various belongings into plastic bags.
Ex Roomie: you’re doing the right thing moving out.
I was sitting on the edge of my bed, my head in my hands.
me: I become more and more aware of that, every passing day, thank you.
Ex Roomie: You’re doing the right thing.
me: Yes (pause) I know.
He left my room and I closed the door behind him, and got back in bed. A few minutes later I am awoken once again by heavy knocking.
Ex Roomie: You should come out here man, you need to be made aware of something!
I oblige. I don’t know why. It may be my terrible sense of humor, which allows me to put myself in such volatile situations. As if a practical joke is being played on me, and I’m participating for my own gratification. I sit on the edge of the living room couch.
me: Okay, what?
A: He’s just spouting off at the mouth man, it’s nothing.
Ex Roomie: No, Listen. Alison has someone moving in in October.
A: Don’t listen to him man.
me: Wait, that’s fine. I’m moving out. I thought we talked about this.
Ex Roomie: You should be aware.
A: Don’t listen to him man!
me: I don’t know what’s going on, to be perfectly honest. Guys, I’m sick, and it’s early, so leave me the fuck alone please.
A: Listen, he’s just spouting off at-
me: STOP!

I wasn’t planning on publishing this particular blog until after I moved out, but  the more I thought about it the more I realized I should post it now. It is more sincere, and it’s that much more funny to think that as you’re reading this I’m living in TOTAL SUCK! By the way, I’m fully aware that it is in bad taste to post someone’s real name and picture, but if you’re going to eat my food, and invade my privacy there’s really no holding back. Don’t eat my food. The end.

Kanye West Is An

Couldn’t have said it better myself google. Tonight at MTV’s VMA’s (who gives a shit, I know) Kanye so graciously grabbed the mic from Best Female Video Award winner, 19 year old Taylor Swift, in support of Beyonce’s video Single Ladies.

He then proceeded to shoot off at the mouth like a child demanding his say. When did it become okay for a grown ass man to have a tantrum?  Not up on this celebrity gossip shit, but I’ll leave you with this. Am I the only one who thinks beaver whenever Kanye’s on tv? He has brace face. You know, the puckering, protruding lips of someone who is trying to hide their dental gear by forcing their lips down over it.

The Chair Kicking Tranny

I went to see District 9 with my girlfriend Friday. We went to the theater on 68th and Broadway and decided to see a late show, so we could walk around Lincoln Center for a few hours. There happened to be a live performance going on outside of Damrosch park. I think it was World Music. but to be honestly, I’m not really sure what World Music is.

I think it has something to do with being latino and having long hair, while simultaneously wearing a robe and a pair of moccasins. There are usually pan-flutes, or tambourines involved. However, that could just be my clouded American intellect speaking for me. Who invented the term World Music anyway? Another characteristic of World Music, though not a qualifying factor is, it is usually accompanied by some sort of dancing, long haired, tye-dyed person. And this particular show wasn’t lacking. We sat on the benches by the bar, and took in our fair share of World Music, and eratic hippie dancing. At around 9ish we made our way over to the theater to watch the movie. We bought our soda pop and skittles, hid them in our bags (who the hell can afford food from the movie thearter these days? Not this intern), and took our seats, ready to enjoy the movie. I have to say, I wasn’t exactly excited to see the show. I thought the premise of District 9, as presented in the trailer, seemed pretty typical,  and the viral campaign looked really cartoony to me. I was happily surprised.

D-9 Poster/Ghetto Thing lookalike

Before the movie began, as the ‘Unscriptables’ and ‘Who Said It?’ questions were still being projected onto the screen, we heard some commotion coming from the row behind us.

“Is that seat taken? Hello!? No? Aright”-Ghetto Thing said, in her Bonquiqui accent.

One that I had become quite accustomed to by the neighborhoods where I buy my weed. A tall figure, with broad shoulders, tits, and an adams apple,  began shuffling towards a middle seat. When no one stood up to assist her by, Ghetto Thing retored with a loud teeth sucking, punctuated with a comical “RUDE.” She sat by herself. I was surprised, as she seemed like quite the prize.

The lights dimmed and the trailers began. We decided which movies looked good, and which looked fucking stupid. We decided which ones we would watch shitty copies of on the internet, and which ones we would wait for to come out on DVD. Then the movie began. We took our skittles and soda out of our bags and reclined further into our chairs for maximum movie enjoyment. A few minutes into the movie I start feeling a light kicking against the back of my seat. This is, honestly, one of my biggest pet peeves. One of those things that I knew. if I wasn’t careful, I’d end up blowing up over. So I tried to relax, teling myself it was totally un-intentional, and went back to the movie. Ten minutes later ::THUMP:: A hard kick. WHAT THE FUCK.. well , maybe the guys foot slipped. Calm down… it’s no big deal. ::THUMP THUMP:: At this point I’m not even paying attention to the movie. I’m just getting more and more upset. I turn to my girlfriend.

“Who the fuck is sitting behind me?”I whispered.

“It’s that ghetto chick from earlier.” she said, matter of factly, as if to say who else?

“Oh shit, you mean the tranny?”

“mhm, that’s the one.”

I turn back to the movie, suddenly realizing I was in a delicate situation. As a rule, I don’t pick fights with women. Some might call that sexist, but it was just the way I was brought up. It doesn’t make sense to me to pick on someone physically smaller than I am. Then again Ghetto Thing was at least a foot above my head, and had the shoulders of a linebacker. And was she really a woman? Should I take into consideration whether she was post-op or pre op? Maybe I should’ve asked.

Excuse me. yes, excuse me Miss. Did you have your dick cut off yet? I’m not certain as to whether I should scream at you or not.

All things considered, I told myself to not worry about it. Just to sit back and enjoy the rest of the movie... But then that  little voice in the back of my head had to get a word in. Yo. this dude thinks you’re a chump. I mean lookat’m.. Sitting there all smug by herself. Knows you’re just trying to have a good time with your girlfriend. Just tryna fuck your shit up. For some reason, that voice in the back of my head is from the Bronx, even though I was born in queens.

That little voice always gets the best of me. I felt a hard thud conncet with the back of my seat and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I shot around.

“HEY, could you please NOT kick my chair?” I said, leaning over the back of my chair with an angry frown.

“UMM. It’s not intentional” Ghetto Thing replied, cocking her head to the side, and sucking her teeth loud enough for the whole theater to hear.

“It’s not intentional??” I shout-whispered back, still mindful of the other people in the theater “You’ve been doing it the whole fucking movie. You’re ruining it for me and it’s starting to piss me off.”

I shot back around, a smug look on my face. I turned to my girlfriend who seemed mildly pleased, and reclined back into my seat. As the movie began to climax I started to feel a sense of impending guilt. Did I really need to do that? Said the more wholesome voice in my head. I couldn’t help but worry if I’d gone too far, screaming at Ghetto Thing. I mean, she was by herself at a movie, on a Friday night. On top of that, she was going through an extremely transitional position in her life, and didn’t need some asshole screaming at her because she happens to have long legs. As the credits began to roll I started to turn around to apologize when ::THUD:: her big fat Tranny Foot connected with the back of my chair. She quickly rose from her seat and exited the theater. Ghetto Thing: if I ever see you again I will beat you like a man.

-NYC, If You Are

Drowsy Cerebrations: Ants, 5hr Energy, Focalin

There. I fixed your picture.
First of all…
What’s with all of these ants coming into the house? I’ve lived in an apartment with cockroaches before, so I thought ants were no big deal. What I failed to remember was ants are a brave bunch. They’ll crawl up your arm and just chill on you.
Listen here little mother fuckers. DON’T MAKE ME BREAK OUT THE R-R-R-RRAIIIID!!!!!!.

So today was an incredibly long day. I woke up at 5:30 to get to work at 7:00 this morning. I’m not really sure why I’m still awake. I should’ve crashed by now considering I had a ton of coffee today. Maybe my boss snuck some of his 5 hour energy drink into my falafel. (get your mind out of the gutter.) He’s addicted to it, infact. It seems like that stuff wouldn’t be very good for you.. I mean it looks like one of those tiny schnapps bottles you get on airplanes, and even though I only have good memories associated with schnapps+flying I can’t help but notice a correlation between next day dry-heaving and peach schnapps.

So I looked up the nutritional content and it actually doesn’t look that bad. I mean it has niacin and ginseng in it..

My shampoo has niacin in it, which I guess is a good thing, right? I’m far from condoning this stuff though. For one, I haven’t tried it, and shit, I’m no sell out. Not until they pay me at least.

well anyway, It’s probably better than popping Focalin after missing a night of sleep. Not that I would know. Right. Anyway, someone who did do that would tell you it totally drains your dopamine and yeah, it keeps you up, but by the end of the day you’re clutching a handful of baby aspirin trying to off yourself because you have a case of the sads.

well, I woke up too early for this fuckery so I’m going to bed now.

La Guardia Evacuates Thanks To Some Drunk Asshole

This morning, a man described as “highly intoxicated” by security staff, mozied into La Guardia Airport with a fake bomb in his carry-on. What an asshole! There really is no excuse for that kind of thing. I mean, I was “highly intoxicated” last night, but I didn’t take a “set of batteries and wires attached to what looked like an electrical power strip with a toggle” and try to bully my way on board a Boeing.You know what the problem is? Some people can’t handle their Liqs. If you know that you’re the type of person who drinks til they black out and then ends up in a Federal holding cell after trying to hi-jack an airplane with a fake bomb made out of things you bought at RadioShak, then perhaps you should stick to Bacardi Silver. (I’m lookin at you, Paula Abdul.)

Bike Folly

disclaimer: niche rant coming.

My front wheel got crushed
the axel on my new (used) front wheel rusted.
the new axel is too long and the cones come loose constantly.
The only shop on the upper west side selling wheel bearings sells 25 for 5 dollars.
my left pedal squeeks because the bearings fell out.
After moving a tire and tube to a new room the wheel went flat over night.
My Front wheel is far from true.

Roger, at Pedal Pusher at 1306 2nd Ave charged me 86 dollars on the 17th for a lock I had bought on the 10th and returned on ::drum roll:: the 17th.
The best part is, thinking I had money in my checking account I bought groceries and a metrocard, and now I owe 300 dollars in insufficient funds to chase.

Luckily my bank manager is helping me fight some of the fees and we will call Pedal Pushing Mutha Fuckers tomorrow to clear some shit up.

for the first time the bank isn’t the bad guy.

snobbery has reached an all time low

p.s. He didn’t refund me until early May. this happened in April. Great job!

Irrational Fears? The Internet is Not Your Friend

So I was doing some random googling today, as I often do, when I find myself at the end of my porn rope (harhar) and I found myself looking through an encyclopia of phobias. It was more of a list then anything actually, so in the spirit of google I started looking up some of the phobias that I thought were interesting (hilariously debilitating.) One website was dedicated to those who are afraid of hair, another for people who are afraid of air pockets (AWESOME!) I noticed that neither of these websites actually addressed the phobia, or any of its symptoms.

Taking a closer look I began to notice a pattern. None of the websites directly addressed the phobias\. They usually spoke in generalities. Most of these pages said things like “Is your irrational fear causing you distress?” or “Are you tired of pricey therapy that hasn’t CURED you?” I began clicking some of the links on these pages and there it was. What all of them had in common.

(http://www.phobia-fear-release.com/osmophobia.html)

(http://www.changethatsrightnow.com/shortdescriptionlist.asp?phobiaid=1411)

They linked to a websites advertising psycho-therapy alternatives, such as time-line therapy, neuro-linguistic programming, and the best of the bunch “energy therapy.” I’m not a psychologist. I’m not even that well educated to be honest, but I’m pretty sure this is a fuckin scam. Back to googling porn. I’m sure it’s cheaper than some of the crud those sites are peddling.

ooo, ashhcroft

Isn’t it great that someone out there decided to build a series of webpages that would prey on hypocondriacs and the mentally ill alike? That they set them up cookie cutter style so that some poor worried doll sitting at her computer, worried that the sky is falling, might stumble apon their website and fork over dough for their energy therapy? Maybe we should be afraid of the http://www.  oh the world we live in… HAPPY GOOGLING ; )