Magic Dart!
Well, here I am back in Chicago, back at college, back to self-loathing and manic repressive tendencies. Joyest of joys. This may see me back to a daily schedule though, so check back more often than you have been, oh faithful reader. The furniture of my third roommate who moved out last semester is finally being taken out, after 3 god damned months and many an angry phone call and e-mail. So that's good news. I can see out the window again which makes the room look less like a prison cell and more like a prison cell with a window.
My whole body is pretty fucking sore, after traveling for 14 GOD DAMN HOURS yesterday. My train was two hours late and the baggage claim is a bich and a half, not to mention the 8 hour train ride itself. Somehow I was under the impression that taking the train would be faster than driving. Silly me.
I wonder how naive my roommate is? I hope a lot, but it doesn't seem like it. I only ask because now I have to time my masturbation around his schedule, which is pretty damn annoying, let me tell you. I can't tell you the number of times he's walked in the door to me exiting several internet sites and retracting my hand to an appropiate position, then casually trying to be smooth and make it look like I'd just been checking my e-mail, for some reason with the headphones on though it was obvious I wasn't listening to music. Aargh. I'll bet he thinks I'm some kind of sex fiend or something, because he walked in on me and the gf eating biscotti when she came to visit. Actually, so did a couple other people. Does a sock on the door not mean anything anymore? I thought that was a universal symbol of "Go away; I'm fucking". Well, whatever. If I have the reputation of being a sex maniac, it's probably due to the fact that I am one.
Hey, why do people put condoms in the toilet? You're not supposed to do that. It clogs up the septic system and they're not environmentally safe. Maybe if they were hippy condoms, but no hippy I know uses such things. I think my suitemate just threw that in there to be like "Look, everybody! I had sex!" I'm sure he just bought a box and threw one away. Bah. Maybe I'm just bitter because someone else got some and I didn't. But I'm sure a liscenced plumber would wash his hands of the whole situation. He should anyway; they're probably all shitty and gross.
A man on the street asked me for change today. This is not really news because this happens often, but this man was dressed nice and had headphones on so I was prepared to not give him anything. His teeth were a tad faulty, but who am I to talk? But all he asked for was 90 cents to catch a bus, and he was at a bus stop. Believable story, and the price was right, so I conceded. Afterwards, he told me that he wishes I "find a good wife". I wanted to run back and give him more money for saying this, but he didn't seem like the crack addicted type. Too bad. I'll give anybody any amount of crack if they wish me a good wife. I think that's just plain awesome.
Spinal Tap is a great movie. Did you know Christopher Guest is an Earl? I didn't. How about that. The man that wrote "Sex Farm" is a mother fucking Earl. That's one step below king, man. Damn. Earls invented sandwiches. I love sandwiches. I could go for a sandwich right now.
Sex Scenes At Starbucks inspired me to break out my copy of The Downward Spiral again. Thank you for reminding me how horny I get after hearing that album... Dammit, this post is starting to sound like one of hers.
Well, I'm done. Click "Next Blog" now.
My whole body is pretty fucking sore, after traveling for 14 GOD DAMN HOURS yesterday. My train was two hours late and the baggage claim is a bich and a half, not to mention the 8 hour train ride itself. Somehow I was under the impression that taking the train would be faster than driving. Silly me.
I wonder how naive my roommate is? I hope a lot, but it doesn't seem like it. I only ask because now I have to time my masturbation around his schedule, which is pretty damn annoying, let me tell you. I can't tell you the number of times he's walked in the door to me exiting several internet sites and retracting my hand to an appropiate position, then casually trying to be smooth and make it look like I'd just been checking my e-mail, for some reason with the headphones on though it was obvious I wasn't listening to music. Aargh. I'll bet he thinks I'm some kind of sex fiend or something, because he walked in on me and the gf eating biscotti when she came to visit. Actually, so did a couple other people. Does a sock on the door not mean anything anymore? I thought that was a universal symbol of "Go away; I'm fucking". Well, whatever. If I have the reputation of being a sex maniac, it's probably due to the fact that I am one.
Hey, why do people put condoms in the toilet? You're not supposed to do that. It clogs up the septic system and they're not environmentally safe. Maybe if they were hippy condoms, but no hippy I know uses such things. I think my suitemate just threw that in there to be like "Look, everybody! I had sex!" I'm sure he just bought a box and threw one away. Bah. Maybe I'm just bitter because someone else got some and I didn't. But I'm sure a liscenced plumber would wash his hands of the whole situation. He should anyway; they're probably all shitty and gross.
A man on the street asked me for change today. This is not really news because this happens often, but this man was dressed nice and had headphones on so I was prepared to not give him anything. His teeth were a tad faulty, but who am I to talk? But all he asked for was 90 cents to catch a bus, and he was at a bus stop. Believable story, and the price was right, so I conceded. Afterwards, he told me that he wishes I "find a good wife". I wanted to run back and give him more money for saying this, but he didn't seem like the crack addicted type. Too bad. I'll give anybody any amount of crack if they wish me a good wife. I think that's just plain awesome.
Spinal Tap is a great movie. Did you know Christopher Guest is an Earl? I didn't. How about that. The man that wrote "Sex Farm" is a mother fucking Earl. That's one step below king, man. Damn. Earls invented sandwiches. I love sandwiches. I could go for a sandwich right now.
Sex Scenes At Starbucks inspired me to break out my copy of The Downward Spiral again. Thank you for reminding me how horny I get after hearing that album... Dammit, this post is starting to sound like one of hers.
Well, I'm done. Click "Next Blog" now.
posted by MC Harv at 6:11 PM
4 Comments:
There is no higher wish than a good wife. PHF is sooo lucky.
More hate! You are the funniest thing since Milk & Cheese.
Yeah. Isn't he just the cutest thing??
Maybe your roomate just hates you or is repressed (I'm sure that's spelled wrong, but I'm tired) and wants to live vicariously through you.
Don't buy the latest incarnation of Downward Spiral, it's going to be like the last one, but dumber. Wonderful album, I just wish he'd get off his ass and finish the new album already.
-Thomas
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