My house isn’t exactly an episode of „Seventh Heaven” right now

Living with seven perfect strangers under the same roof for 4 months is hard enough, even without them using your toothbrush to clean their dirty pair of sneakers or your way-to-expensive-salon-shampoo to wash their clothes. But when you have to deal with this on a daily basis, things will eventually go insane and one day you’ll just grab a perfectly sharp knife and chop off everybody’s heads.

So I thought you could use some tips on how to avoid committing murder and spending the rest of your life in prison.

1. When a certain fuckhead brings his food to your room, instead of eating it in the kitchen, like normal people usually do, and then says he’s sorry, but there’s no TV in the kitchen and his stomach won’t correctly digest food if he doesn’t watch TV while eating, KEEP YOUR CALM! Just grab the stupid TV and move it to the kitchen. See how easy that was? Oh, and don’t grab the knife on your way back!

2. If some other spoiled brat leaves his dirty dishes in your room after he’s finished eating, do not panic! He’s probably one of those really cool and sophisticated artists who think a dirty plate adds a certain charm to the room, when it’s placed on the bed. Just grab the plate and move it on HIS bed; we don’t want your room to be more charming than his, do we?

3. Now if another loud and obnoxious dickhead lays his dirty feet on the table after finishing eating, it’s ok, just think happy thoughts, everything is good, do not look for that knife!

Actually …I have no peacefull idea for this one, so find that knife and cut both his legs. Just make sure he doesn’t bleed to death, we don’t want him dead, we just want him to suffer.

4. If one day you come home tired from work and on your couch you find two people practically having sex, DO NOT GET ANGRY! They’re not doing it just to get on your nerves, they are doing it because they are two horny pigs who can’t keep it in their pants for more than an hour and find very kinky and exotic having sex on your couch, instead of on their boring bed. Just pore a bucket of cold water on them, this should keep things cool. Do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT cut his balls with that knife! Oh, and try to erase that scene from your memory, there’s no need for you to puke on your couch every time you see it!

5. If one of the bitchfaces that lives with you constantly digs through your stuff and uses all your make-up, and everytime you bring a friend home she hits on him, pretending to be your „best-est friend”…you’re on your own…I’m still working on this.

6. You may also have difficulties keeping it cool when:

-you will find out that somebody has eaten your bread and drank your beer.

-you won’t get any sleep because of the loud music your fucker roommates are listening to, in the middle of the fucking night

-you will find some bastard’s underwear on the bathroom floor. YUCK, dickhead?!?

7. If any of the above advices doesn’t work, grab that knife and solve things your own style, just don’t waste your energy throwing icy get-the-fuck-out-of-my-room-you-idiot-I’m-trying-to-get-dressed glances, it won’t work!

For more information on how to survive living with your worst enemies, log on to this blog next month, when we’ll have a Halloween special!

Until next time, try to stay out of prison and don’t forget your toothbrush and your shampoo in the bathroom!

30.10.2008. Chris’s last day working for Kohr Bros. But who’s counting?

I have three words for you: MU-Haha-HAHA! Long story short, after I quit my job at the ice cream store, Bob, a.k.a. the district manager, a.k.a. Chris’s boss, called me and asked me to come back, promising me that I won’t have to work 7 days a week or sale my soul to Chris.

Now Chris is mad as a box of frogs and she told Bob that if i don’t leave, she will. Bob said „ok, see ya!”. And now she’s looking for another job. She’ll be gone by the 1st of october.

Now how cool is that?

Hi, my name is Idiot.

Me (while browsing the web, for a SPF moisturizer): Oh, look, this looks nice! and it says I can have a free 14 days trial! WHOA, I should get this!

Me (after 4 days, when the moisturizer has been delivered to my door): Yey, my free moisturizer is here! I’ll be high all day!

Me (after the 14 days trial, heading to the door, after hearing a buzz): Hey there, delivery guy, what’s up?

UPS delivery guy (with a bored face): Delivery ma’am. Is this for you?

Me (confused): Ummm…no…I’m not expecting anything…

UPS delivery guy (extremely bored face): Well, is this your name, ma’am?

Me (trying my best not to slap him in his face): Yes, it is, just hand me the damn package, I’ll sign for it!

Me (more confused than ever): Ummm…It’s a new moisturizer…only bigger…and it says 31 days supply…I wonder what’s the deal with this one…

Me (checking my bank account): Hooolly SHIT!!! when did I spend $89??? damn it, it must be the moisturizer, but still…what the fuck?!?!

Me (checking the moisturizer page again): Ummm…..bla bla bla….bla-freakin-bla…doesn’t say anything about eighty-fucking-nine bucks!!!

Me (after 40 minutes, still checking the goddamn moisturizer page): ummm….bla-bla-bla…oh, I wonder what this tiny-whiny-little sign, in the tiny-whiny-little-hidden-recess of the page says…:

I understand that by ordering *##$$%%^^* moisturizer, I am agreeing to receive *##$$%%^^* moisturizer for a free 14-day trial period (days of availability for actual usage could be less depending on shipping time) beginning on date of order. $4.00 (non-refundable) for S&P. I understand that unless I cancel by calling 1-801-208-7499 within this 14-day period, beginning on the 15th day my credit card will automatically be charged $89.31 (Free Shipping) for a 31 day supply of *##$$%%^^* moisturizer to be shipped at that time to my door. Thereafter, until and unless I cancel, my credit card will automatically be charged an additional $89.31 every 31 days for a new supply of *##$$%%^^* moisturizer. I understand that I may cancel any future shipments Monday through Friday by calling 1-801-208-7499. Our hours of operation are from 8am to 5pm MST.I understand that this consumer transaction involves a negative option and that I may be liable for payment of future goods and services, under the terms of this agreement, if I fail to notify the supplier not to supply the goods or services described.

Me (hanging on my last hope): huh, that’s ok, I’ll just return the stupid moisturizer in its original, unopened, packaging, and tell the dickheads to give me my money back. Yup, that’s what I’ll do. I wonder if I can find the returning address on this page…umm….I wonder what this other tiny-whiny-little sign says…ummm…let’s see…zooooom…:

We do not accept returns on any products that have been shipped.

Me (practically numb and hopeless): Gosh, I truly am an idiot.

Professional loser

Dear Fuck-Wads that live one floor above my apartment,

I just wanted to write to let you know that I really did not appreciate you waking me up this morning (and the last 364 mornings, including saturday mornings, since I’ve been living in this apartment). Although I understand your claim that your apartment needs capital repairs, it might have been wiser to do the hammer-drilling stuff somewhere AFTER 12:00 PM. Oh, and I would have appreciated if it didn’t take ALL DAMN YEAR, working from 8:00 AM to 9:00 AM every fucking morning!

Your „golly fucking gee, Ma’am, it won’t take longer than a couple of days” response does not account for the fact that I never actually got to sleep for the past couple of MONTHS!

Your hammer-drill perforating my ceiling has not only caused me hours of sleeplessness, but also headaches in ways that may cause a permanent tick. Your „Ma’am, the new professional plumber I hired told me his work will be done by the end of this week and I cannot explain what’s taking so long” is a load of horse shit that you should be forced to eat. And „plumber” is not a profession, it barely qualifies as a hobby. Your „As a courtesy Ma’am, we would be willing to do the renovations only after 12 o’clock in the morning” is really NOT A COURTESY WHEN YOU CAUSED THIS MESS TO BEGIN WITH. I have an idea, why don’t you torture us 8 hours a day, working from 8:00 to 16:00, like NORMAL people work, and end this hell on earth thing once and for all? Umm…just a suggestion, you total and utter DIPSHITS.

I wish a pestilence on you and your families so that you are effectively driven out of the gene pool.

Sincerely,

Your much too tolerant flatmate.

I’m being stalked by Dr. Fucking Freud

Update. The little pathological anonymous nerd who was getting on my nerves until yesterday, is no longer anonymous.

He was so sweet, trying to prove me that he knows what I’m doing at all times and when he doesn’t know, he’s trying to find out…and that he’s dangerous and I should get a restraining order…But as the Ice Queen I obviously am, I didn’t take the poor bastard too seriously.

Having no life whatsoever and willing to do anything to get a reaction, he finally revealed his pathetic, insignificant, loser identity: he is just this…boy [I think he’s like…12]…I once had a conversation with, on messenger. The conversation was so boring, I don’t even remember what was it about. I do remember telling him my name, so that answers my „how the hell was he able to find out my name, when he only knew the few information I posted on this blog?” question.

Disappointed with the fact that the only people who are checking out his blog are his friends from „The Associated Stalking Weirdos”, he finally deleted the post where he „revealed my secret identity”   [ L-fucking-OL, you little psycho!!!] and he posted a profound, psychological diagnosis, based on the tabs he kept [anyone who’s ANYONE in Stalker World, must be a tab-keeper], while observing my behaviour. He’s so cute, he says I’m „a lost scared child” and that only he knows this hiden side of me, and other shit like this.

Awww…poor baby….I wonder if he’s on medication… ‘Cause if he isn’t, he should be, I’m sure he knows that. He should tell his parents to take him to a doctor.