This thread will be a running journal for all the stupid/annoying shit my fuckhead roommate does

Oh, and lol about paying rent and utility partially with check and the rest in dollar bills and coins. What the fai-yuck? The one time I did live away from my parents' place in an apartment, I was a hell of a lot more frugal. I didn't buy any entertainment or go out to restaurants if I didn't already have the next month's rent and utilities charge in my account. Unlike my one roommate who never seemed to have the money, ever; his older brother was always picking up his slack. He got paid back within a week or two, but it was always bogus to see his brother have to do that.

I spend a lot of money

hookers and blow?

I don't do either of those anymore.

Queerbait calls me today while I'm at work. He starts off with, "I got a new iPhone, so I got all the new technology and apps and stuff it's cool," and I responded by putting my head right in my hand. It's sad and stupid enough for him to call me just to brag about shit I don't give a fuck about, but you're telling me you got this new expensive phone mere weeks after you asked me to not cash a $20 check for utilities because it might overdraw you? fuck off.

Turns out that wasn't the main reason he called; what was in store was much more stupid than even that, thankfully. He said that while he was all freaking out because while looking through his new phone and checking out Google Maps, he was going through our apartment complex and saw that his car wasn't there. He asked me if I had been checking on his car at all (lol no? You didn't even ask me or mention it faggot) or if he at least noticed if it was there, and asked when I was getting off work and if I could go see if his car was still there. I'm like, "Uh, hey dummy, those aren't live pictures. There's a good chance that what's on there is several months if not years old."

"Oh really? Even with having it on the iPhone?"

"...Yes."

"Well, can you still check to see if my car's there when you get off?"

hahahahaha

This just about reached into the so bad it's kind of depressing level.

lmao

Just when you think you can't top another story. I'm almost with good ol' Jeff here, but this shit is too funny.

You have to be making that up. I refuse to believe that someone actually said that.

Rich. Ha ha ha ha ha

I can believe it, it's just so hilarious to hear it actually occur.

i actually had a friend do the same thing, though when we said it wasn't live, she was like "oh... yeah.... that makes sense. my bad" so it wasn't QUITE as bad!

Electroretard wrote:

You have to be making that up. I refuse to believe that someone actually said that.

I wish I were, cuz if I could write stuff like that of my own free will instead of having to document it when it happens to me by chance, I'd write for every sitcom ever and be a millionaire.

Some people base their writing off of people they know IRL. I think you could get something really cool going here.

With my new work schedule working nights, and going out most weekends, I almost never see or interact with the guy. Good for me, but bad for material for this thread. BUTT OF COURSE that doesn't mean I still don't have to come home and see the ill-effects of his idiocy strewn about the apartment. And I'm talknig about in addition to the normal shit youg guys already know about like leaving the kitchen a fucking massacre all the god damn time. FOR STARTERS:

I have my mother's placemats placed on my mother's table that we use to eat on. The problem is, these are cloth placemats designed primarily for decoration and to protect your table top from heat transfer and condensation from your drinking glass, but because they're cloth material are NOT made to be used in a way that this dumbass is apparently still fucking used to. He treats them like they're his old Thundercats/Transformers/Army/WHATEVER THE FUCK placemats made from plastic or vinyl, and still of course acts like a three year-old, and just eats haphazardly letting crumbs and whatever the fuck hit and stain the bitch with making zero effort to clean it. He fucking grabs his box of Cheez-Its or Thin Mint FUCKING FUDGE girl scout cookies and lays them out on the thing to eat off of like the placemat itself was a paper plate or something, allowing crumbs to sink into it and MOTHERFUCKING CHOCOLATE to melt right into the bitch.





ALSO...my DVD shelf is out in the common area because my bedroom is too small for it to fit in there. Not what I would have preferred obviously but what can I do. I remember when I was first moving in and setting it up he was looking it over and saying how much he liked my collection. I thought to myself, "Oh great, this dipshit that gobbles up any quarter-billion dollar summer blockbuster likes my taste in movies." Turns out he just likes looking at it mostly and the idea of being able to watch any of them for free if he wanted to, because he's only heard of a select few of my DVDs and seen/cares to see even less.

Being the nice guy that I am, I of course told him he could watch whatever he wants from my collection whenever he wants so long as he treats them with care and puts them back where he found them, since I keep them in alphabetical order. Now, for starters, of course he treats them like shit, but he does it without even knowing it, and that was honestly expected. Does shit like leaves discs in the PS3 (I fucking HATE that), never bothers putting some of the DVDs back on the shelf at all, watches multiple movies and with each one he finishes throws the disc itself on the carpet or table even though the case is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, actually puts the DVD back in the case but reassembles the case itself in a very obvious incorrect way (this is mostly talking about digipaks with outer sleeves...like putting the inner part in the sleeve upsidedown), putting the whole thing back on the shelf backwards so that the side of the case opening faces out instead of the motherfucking spine with the motherfucking title on it...fuck. Some of it is just being anal, but then again, I still don't think asking somebody to NOT do absolutely stupid and careless shit like this is asking a lot.

Something funny about it though, is that on the select times that he does actually to ATTEMPT to do what I ask him to do and put the DVD back where he found it when he's done with it, his fucking stupidity and incompetence still shines through, it's like a fucking beacon that's screaming and laughing at me. Like I said earlier, I keep my DVDs in alphabetical order on the shelf, and I told him this specifically (as if it weren't fucking obvious when you're going through and reading the titles), as well as to make sure that he put them back both AS as well as WHERE he found them. But I'll come back after work and feel like watching a movie and find, to my utter fucking amazement, THAT SOMETHING IS ASKEW!!! I'll be reading along my titles, "...Maltese Falcon, Matrix, Mama Roma, Maniac..." wait a fucking second...Maltese Falcon, Matrix, Mama Roma!?!? Or one time it went, "...Snatch, Spaceballs, Stagefright, Stand By Me, Standing in the Shadows of Motown, Street Fighter, Street Fighter 2, Super Troopers, Suspiria, South Park Bigger, Longer & Uncut..." AH MOTHERFUCKER YOU WEREN'T EVEN TRYING THAT TIME! Making it all the worse, my shelves are perfectly flat and even. So when you pull a DVD out, it leaves an open gap on the shelf where you pulled the DVD from. So this guy watches whatever he watches, (sometimes) goes back to put the DVD back on the shelf, ignores the gaping fucking hole screaming to him, "LOOK AT FUCKING ME ASSHOLE AND PUT THAT BITCH THAT'S IN YOUR HANDS RIGHT FUCKING HERE!" and he actually makes the effort to NOT do that and puts it back in incorrect order. motherfucker...





So our lease is up at the end of August. We both decided for sure that we're not staying here. He decides he's going back to Irvine where he's from (although this simple fucking lunkhead never fucking calls where he's from what it fucking actually is. He sounds like somebody from NOWHERE NEAR where he's actually from when he talks about where he's from. Never fucking calls it "Irvine" like a fucking normal person. It's always fucking "Orange County", or "O.C." or "So-Cal". god fucking damnit). He's actually moving in with his dad. That's right. This almost 30 year-old, who makes decent money, who has been engaged and lived with his fiancee in a house that she owned, is now going to live rent free "IN SOCAL". The last few times he's gone down there (that's another thing, this bitch takes vacations ALL THE FUCKING TIME like he's some fucking person who could either afford to or deserve to) he's had job interviews, and that's like the other half of his reason for wanting to go back down there permanently. Well he comes home and complains to me about how he doesn't know what he's going to do about going down there because his two interviews that he's had, he hasn't heard back from yet. Where the fuck have you been living dipshit? I know he's been working for Enterprise and living on Easy Street since 2008, but you have to know that the economy's been abysmal since at least around that time and even getting an interview already means you're one of the lucky ones. Yet he's in full effect planning his life around moving back to Irvine on the expectation that when the time comes he'll also for sure have a job waiting for him, and now he's actually wondering if it's a for-sure thing. He actually had the correct combination of ignorance and arrogance (or maybe comedic genius?) to say, "I didn't realize that this was such a high up position that a background check would take so long to do." I asked him what the position was. It's an insurance agent for State Farm. A fucking insurance agent. They give that job to 18 year-olds that dropped out of community college after one semester.

Anyway...in preparation for his move, the last time he went down there he took a truckload of his stuff with him so as to "make the move easier" when the time comes. Makes at least some sense if you do it correctly, I guess. What's one of the things he loads up? The fucking toaster, the one that I fucking bought. Thankfully I asked him where the fuck it went while he was still there and loading other stuff so I got it back before it was 500 miles away. I asked him, why in the fucking motherfuck would he take the fucking toaster, and he said, "I thought it was mine." I KNOW YOU FUCKING DID, YOU THINK EVERYTHING IS YOURS WE'VE DISCOVERED THIS BEFORE. But the bottom line is, dipfuck, is that no matter who owns the toaster it's OUR toaster while we're still roommates, and you don't just fucking pack up an appliance that people still use (including yourself, assfuck. What the hell were you going to toast with in the meantime?) without asking first. He also took one of my CD binders that was in the living room because it was next to his CD binders, just because it is a CD binder, even though it's not even the same brand, size or color as his other ones. He's such a fucking absent-minded, blissful nincompoop that he just thought it was his again. Again, thankfully, I also got it back before it made the drive.

One of the things he took down there was his bed--his fucking bed. I was like dude what the fuck are you gonna sleep on? He says, "Sleeping bag, on the floor. It's only for another six weeks and I've done it for that long before for Army. DUDE I LOVE IT" Ok yeah I'm sure you didn't and I'm sure you don't--butt-fucking whatever go ahead. What does it actually turn into though of course? HIM PASSED OUT ON THE COUCH EVERY SINGLE FUCKING NIGHT. No, you fucking asshole. Just because you're an idiot and made yet another of your stupid decisions doesn't mean that you get to turn the common area, where I fucking sit and watch DVDs, into your own personal second bedroom. god motherfucking damnfuck.

I'm really hoping that you're a liar at this point.

I really do.

I can't believe he's still alive. How has he lived this long? Sheer, dumb luck?

I've seriously had that thought before: how the fuck has he made it this far in life? Was Darwin just completely wrong?

He just gets tons of help along the way all the time (further evidenced by his dad telling him to move back in with him at 30 lol).

Man I bet you can't wait til August. Wow.

I know i've been bitching about wanting my roommate to move, but damn. i need to stop. haha

He comes home and talks about his birthday and all the lame shit he did that he was all stoked about, then says, "And the best part? I got 74 'Happy Birthday' messages on FaceBook. I was like, 'Oh my god!'"

Then he asked me if I wanted to watch The Fast and the Furious 4 with him.

Facebook is srs business.

Apparently it is, cuz he then mentioned how he "had to" say thank you and hi how ya doin to all of them.

Rofl, wow what a tool.

roommate moved out today.

thread over.