bboydocument

my roaming roomie

Wed, 16 Feb 2005 15:25:27 GMT

OK... so the last time I saw my roommate was when I last wrote about her (not sure of the exact date, but it must have been about two weeks or so).

Haven't seen or heard from her since then.

I just called her at work to get her to buy me something, and was told she no longer works there!

How funny! Wonder where she could be...

Christine, are you out there???

renewed purpose

Wed, 02 Feb 2005 14:21:17 GMT

I have decided to use my LJ for the express purpose of documenting how crazy my boss is. I need an outlet for my frustrations and I'm sure my friends are sick of me complaining everyfuckingday.

So this morning, he complains that his tree doesn't look good. I say the office manager has been watering it, and he says he doesn't think she is doing a good job. So I call her in and she comes with scissors to trim a dead branch. Mind you, this is an African something or other tree, it is HUGE (like 7 ft. tall). He stops working to watch her with the tree and then totally has a fit, saying, "Jesus!! I say get a new fucking tree already!! I mean, look at it (totally using hand motions and getting all hyper). There's nothing left!! I can't have people seeing a tree in my office that has nothing left!!"

I'm sitting there thinking, "She cut one motherfucking branch off and there's nothing left!?" Riiiiiiiiight, because no one has anything else to do today but worry about your goddamned motherfucking tree you asshole!

While this is all going on, I'm sitting at my desk and he occasionally mutters, "Whoa... I'm gonna really give it to you today." "I'm gonna give you so much work." "We're gonna knock of a lot of stuff today." "I'm really gonna give it to you." I mean, how fucking weird is that that this word vomit just comes out of him at random intervals. And the things he says are very questionable, not normal things.

Then he says, "Brendan, come here for a minute." So I walk my ass across the room to find him with a list of numbers, holding a calculator in his hand. He hands me the calculator and says, "Add these numbers while I call them out." Reeeallly, I needed to stop what I was doing to walk over and add these fucking nubmers for you. I mean, you were already half way there. Really.

Beat [the] box

Wed, 26 Jan 2005 13:47:14 GMT

Alrighty peeps. Here's some background info on my roommate:

1) She's 24.
2) She's a human barbie doll.
3) I probably see her about once every two months.
4) She has a penchant for five-inch Christian Louboutin stilettos.
5) She has a fat box.

And now, for your enjoyment... I came home last night to find my roommate standing in the kitchen in nothing but an oversize black sweater (a la Flashdance) and black patent stiletto pumps, talking on the phone and scratching her ass (sans underwear). Ignoring her, I went to my bedroom. When I returned, she jumped up and down out of sheer excitement of seeing me (see point 3, above). So you know, we stood around in the kitchen just shooting the shit as I did normal "at-home" things (get some water, look for food, bang my head against the wall). All the while, she kept scratching her ass.

Now generally I can only handle so much of my roommate, so after about 15 minutes of roundabout chatter I said I was going to bed. "Wait!" she screamed. She begged me to look at her ass. Fine, fine, show me your ass. So she turned around, lifted up her sweater and lo and behold, there was her ass, PEELING like there was no tomorrow. Disgusting. Apparently she had been tanning and was happy to be peeling dead skin off her fucking ass. "Goodnight!" I said and stormed off.

Of course, she can never leave well enough alone. As I lay in bed, she comes in to continue chatting with me, in the dark. The entire time she is scratching her ass. I forget what she said, but at one point, she said something I couldn't believe and I reached over and turned on the lamp. There she was, standing, facing me, in her stiletto pumps and scratching her ass, with her fat manicured box staring me in the face (see point 5, above). "GROSS!" I exclaimed. "Get your fat vagina out of my face!"

This prompted more talk about her pink taco, which she acknowledges is king-sized (or queen, perhaps?). Before drifting off to sleep, I came up with the really great suggestion of taping it down. Now how funny is that shit.

pointless jabber

Mon, 24 Jan 2005 13:41:50 GMT

so i'm at work and i haven't slept a wink. jenn and leanne forced me to create a journal, which i didn't resist, mainly because i need to read about the things they say about me. anyway, i smell man. i've taken a shower and i still smell sweaty, man-ness abound. gross. i feel like... leanne. haha. i need sleep. gross. i can't believe someone let me go home the way i did. ewwww.... my head hurts.

i like you profie. i want to have hot sex on a platter just to make it wet.