13 posts from 2007

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

As you can see, I have now blessed your eyes with a new self-made header and theme. I hope that you are having a mental orgasm. Or even just a regular orgasm if you're a sick fuck and get off on that kind of stuff.

I think my entries on this vox should be forever classified as a day-to-day boredom competition that I always seem to best myself in. Today, after awakening at noon, I decided to go on weplayhere.com and proceed to play Dinkybomb and Oddballs. Actually, I didn't play Dinkybomb because no one accepted my challenges. I think that last sentence pretty much determines the fact that I have entered new realms of social rejection.

Hopefully I am able to pry myself from my chair and clean my room today. I don't really have to do that much to it as I have already cleaned it earlier this week. Still, it is a daunting task.

It's really funny how in almost every entry I have mentioned my inability to pry myself from my chair. It's actually more ironic because the chair is not very comfortable at all. From sitting in such awkward positions over these past few years, my chair has lost a great deal of its padding. It is also older than I am. God only knows how difficult it would be for me to remove myself from a comfortable chair.

Hopefully I am able to learn at some point that just because I decide to create a new paragraph it is not okay to completely shift from one topic to another without any transition at all. Unfortunately, I don't see that happening in the near future and definitely not during this entry. Therefore, I am now going to talk about college. I have two roommates. One is a football player and the other is a fat emo kid. I know this only from looking at the default pictures of both of these people on facebook. Since I refuse to add either of them unless they request me first, that is all I'm going to know until move-in day on September 3rd.

Ahh, passive aggression. Yet another admirable quality that I have shown in my lifetime.

So, in case you're wondering what the title of this blog entry means, it is referring to the three things that I stated in my previous entry that I wanted to do this summer. I bought a new car (2005 Honda Civic) and I put up my very first listing on eBay which probably won't sell because I have 0 feedback and no one really wants to buy the Sphinx and the Cursed Mummy video game, but still, it is an accomplishment by my own definition. Now, instead of breaking out into a psychological nightmare like I did in the previous entry that I just read and leading people to truly question my sanity, I think that I will stop writing here.

As i sit and write this entry I regret to inform you that I haven't gotten up off of this chair (except to get some milk just a few minutes ago) in about six hours. While sitting this chair, I have made some wonderfully ambitious and interesting decisions. I have decided 1) that I should start selling things on eBay because it grants me the ability to make money while sitting in this previously mentioned chair, 2) that I should also get a part time job this summer that involves sitting instead of standing, and 3) that I should get a new car that doesn't convulse while I drive up hills and reek of gasoline.

I really can't believe how bored I am right now. Before when I would get to this point of immense boredom I would create a new blog. Nowadays along with my immense boredom comes immense laziness, making such activities impossible. To all those reading, if anyone actually has managed to a) make their way to this URL or b) have the ability to stay conscious whilst reading this entry, I commend you. Your attention span is clearly 48930839058195734 times the size of mine. I can barely even continue to write this without wanting to pass out, nevermind actually have the focus and determination to voluntarily read it.

I like cheese.

Actually, I don't. That was a lie. That's just something I wrote because I honestly didn't have anything else to write. I have no idea why I'm even still typing this blog entry. It has become clear to both myself and I'm sure all of you that I have nothing else even remotely entertaining to write, yet I still continue to pull words directly from my asshole. Yes, you read that correctly. In fact, my asshole is now typing this blog entry. jkaslgjkl;sdgjsdkgsadgffdsagewiotuweriavcxnmzvx. Camera. Zync. I like how I though that Zync was the correct spelling of the element Zinc until vox.com corrected me by underlining "Zync" in red. Wallet. The Polar Express. Yes, in case you were wondering, my asshole is now typing the names of things sitting on my desk at the moment. Speakers. Headphones. K, I really need to stop now. By this point I'm 100% positive that you all (again, I use that term because it's too embarrassing and pathetic to acknowledge the truth that no one is really reading this entry) think I have some kind of psychological disorder.