That fucking guy.

right now i have THAT roommate in this joint.

you know the one, he's the guy that left all your laundry in a wet pile on the washer because he wanted the dryer. the one that looks sheepish when you go for that last bottle of champagne in the fridge to find it gone. the one that asks if you want a hit off the pipe when he just packed a bowl with your weed. (i don't smoke weed but i've seen that move a thousand times.) the one that asks you for a ride 14 times a day when he could walk his bitch ass to the bus or take a cab. or worse, the one that hangs around the door to your room and says "wow, it sure would be dope if i had a ride to work...yeah, all i need is to find myself a ride to work..."

No, motherfucker. I will not drive you to work for the 8th time this week. why? because the only thing more annoying than a mooch is a HINTER. i hate fucking hinting. just turn around and ask me for a fucking ride, yo. (why you gotta treat me all inferior because i'm on the grill, B? daaamn.")

anyway, today, after he has gotten on my LAST nerve using my expensive-ass Whole Food Market laundry detergent and moving my wet laundry to the top of the washer AND using my cell 6 times (to try to get someone to cover his shift tonight! look, homie, the only thing going for you right now is the fact that you have a job so take yo broke ass to work and make that dough.) i go to the fridge to eat the pizza from yesterday. The box is gone. The four pieces of pizza, also gone.

WHAT THE FUCK.

i was in my room all day, all he had to do was fucking ASK if he could have the god damn pizza and i probably would have given to him. i'm allergic to wheat and i can only have the top anyway. But he fucking sneakily ate it behind my back and then shoved the empty box in the trash can.

so i called him out like everyone else in the house is too much of a pusschops to do.

me: did you eat the pizza in the fridge?

him: yeah. i probably shouldn't have done that, huh?

me: you need to check yourself when it comes to taking other people's shit in this house. it's kind of a trend with you and people are getting pissed.

him: i guess i should have asked...i'll try to figure out a way to fix it.

fix it? it's not a fucking broken lamp or a transmission, motherfucker!

me: don't worry about it, you just need to check yourself with the mooching.

then his ride to work gets here, and he says, "I won't be here to put your wet laundry in the dryer after mine, do you mind doing it?"

i don't know what i expected out of this guy. two of the MC's found him outside wallgreens, fresh from doing time for a DUI, trying to formulate a plan to kill himself. one of the MC's recognized him from rehab (from before the DUI apparently) and remembered that he wasn't that bad of a guy, so they saved his life and let him move in. his only family in the city had disowned him and he only had the shirt on his back, a piece of paper with his PO's number, and a half smoked cigarette. i can not make this shit up.

anyway, i guess it's good that he didn't kill himself. but damn, does he test my patience.

are you still reading this rambling post? i love you.