Banned From the Back Porch

Yeah, I'm going to be one of those guys. You know, the ones who say, "If you really want to know what I think then check out my blog." Mmm hmm......that is what I was destined to do, I guess. Actually, that sounds really lame, I know. To be honest, I don't really know why I am doing this. It is silly and unnecessary, but it's something to pass the time, and maybe make some people mad in the process. Enough about nothing. Let's move onto the dick jokes, daddy issues, and self loathing.

Since I doubt anyone will ever read this, unless my friends or enemies stumble upon this, why not just cut the shit, and dive right into the good stuff. I often times find myself to be completely surrounded by, how do you say, ahem....degenerates. This doesn't stem from my occupation, or social life, but from the very place that I live. While sitting in my living room last night, with my lovely companion, we were bombarded by one of my roommate's, and his drove of simple minded fuck sticks. Now I know that he does, in fact, pay his share of rent, and is entitled to have people over, have a good time, and do naked back flips in the living room if he wants, etc. BUT here is the deal. When it is approaching midnight on a Thursday night, and you walk through the front door, with about 10 rejected scraps of shit from god's people making factory, and reek of fryer grease, and the under sweat of a fat strippers tits, all while creating enough weed smoke to either flag down a patrol car, or start your own Phish concert, I would appreciate a fucking heads up. In case I have not painted an ugly enough picture, let me put some emphasis once again on the fact that these people are complete losers, almost as bad as juggalo's. The kind that when they send a message to someone via text message, or facebook, and they find something to be funny, they just have to start out the message with LMAO or LOLZ. They also have no concept of somewhat proper punctuation, so they use the ......................method to break apart their sentences. Ugh! Probably not a big deal to most people, but those people are wrong. It is, in fact, annoying and retarded.

So back to my tale of disbelief. These pot filled, drunk, grammar destroying creatures of the night stumble into my humble dwellings. Automatic rage fills my body. Mere moments ago, I was enjoying my night, relaxing, finishing up some homework, and getting ready to lay down the love with my lady. Now my night, and life have been ruined by these monsters. For the next few hours they proceed to be as loud and annoying as a Nickelback concert with Kid Rock as special guest vocalist. While attempting to fall asleep, and lure myself to a land of dreams, where hippies, and shitty beards do not exist, these stone crazy vultures proceed to go outside, in 20 degree weather, onto the back porch, which is directly outside of my bedroom. Instead of sleep, I was subjected to over hearing tales of failed drug tests, and criminal backgrounds. Really? You guys? Really? I never would have guessed that about any of you, honestly. God! Night from fucking hell. George Romero could not have written a script to make my night any worse. Such a cluster fuck of let down. I hate complaining, I really do, but all that I am asking for is to have some respect for those that you live with, and to maybe, I don't know, not be such a fucking loser all the time. Grown men, in their mid-twenties, should not be spending their Thursday nights sparking spliffs, drinking Budweiser, and talking about jam bands. At least not around me. Go out and find some lonely, self conscious hippy chick to bang or something. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about having a good time, chasing the red dragon, or whatever, but there is a time and a place. That time is not midnight on a Thursday, outside of my bedroom window, talking about how you can't get hired on at Billy Frogs Grill & Bar because you can't deal with their strict working environment, and drug testing. It's a fucking BAR & GRILL! I'm sure things can't possibly be that regulated and demanding. They make their money by providing college girls with alcohol, who will then in turn get wasted, and make awesome life choices, with awesome dudes. And I'm pretty sure that some of the wait staff is in the bathroom blowing lines of coke up each others' noses anyways. I can't see how they could be too picky on their choice for employees. Can you pour a beer? Check. Can you bring a plate of hot wings out to the fat guy at table 12? check. It's simple, lay off the drugs for a few days, pass your test, make some money, then get your own place where you can stay up all night watching Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, and talking about how the world just doesn't understand you. Okay, I'm done with that. I have actually kind of worn myself out from this. I should try and make my next post a little less angry, and a little more sexy. Until next time, keep watching the sky.