And here are a few more reasons why I hate you all
I have fucking had it with this residence hall and all the people in it (save, maybe, two). For some reason, they all feel it is necessary to keep at least one of their moronic selves in the hallway at all hours of the day, and this person must be ready to stare at anyone who dares enter the hallway. What, is it illegal to walk in the hallways now? They love especially to stare at me, cause I’m “weird” and “quiet.” Well, excuse me if I don’t want to converse with you idiots. From what I’ve heard from your constant screaming and hollering in the hallways at all hours of the night, all your conversations consist of are talking about articles in “People Magazine” and “Cosmo,” trying to dance with really crappy music blaring out for all the world to hear, and people making really stupid, annoying, and repetitive monkey noises. Why this all seems entertaining more than once is far beyond me.
Also, I do not think you have the right to come and bother me in my room when I don’t show up to hall meetings. Fuck your hall meetings. I went to the first one, which was scheduled to last fifteen minutes and ended up lasting three hours, and I’d firmly made up my mind by minute 30 of that meeting that I was not going to participate in meetings that lacked organization, a reasonable clip, and intelligent conversation. Hall meetings, from what I’ve gathered, are optional. You should not—I repeat, should NOT—come to my door every Monday night and ask me to come to the meetings. I won’t. I’m busy, okay? I’ve got better things to do with my time than waste it with you idiots. Unlike you people, I am not here at college to gain friends and to have a blossoming social life. I am here to learn and to get the hell out. So do not get in my way.
To my suitemate: turn the damn radio down, learn how to sing if you’re going to, and stay the fuck out of my room. I know you’ve been in here multiple times when I’ve been at home for the weekend, I have concrete evidence of it, and I am sick of you leaving tracks across my carpet of whatever nasty substances you have coating the floor of your room. You have ABSOLUTELY NO RIGHT to be in here, and if you do it again, I’ll take hold of the situation. You do not want that.
Okay, that’s about it for now. I’m definitely going to try to get into a “quiet hall” next year, cause this is ridiculous. Plus a hall of all girls has way too much estrogen in it to be healthy for anyone.
Why do these people even exist?
Because I’m a slacker, I didn’t go to Polya at all this week.
So I went today. I’m sitting on the aisle end of one of the rows of computers, and in the row across the aisle from me, there are these two stereotypical preppy chicks and one guy. He’s a relatively good looking guy—he doesn’t have the rippling abs thing going on, nor is he overweight—he’s just “average”, but a good kind of average. He is obviously into one of the girls, and she is obviously into him, because they’re freaking fondling each other’s tonsils with their tongues from the moment I got in there to the moment the guy got up to leave. After he leaves, the other girl (the one who wasn’t getting his tongue stuck down her throat) turns to her friend and says, “so I guess you and him are, like, really serious now?” And she goes, “Yeah…but it would be so much better if he weren’t so fat.”
…what??
What the flip-flying hell does that mean? She thinks the relationship would be better IF HE CHANGED PHYSICALLY? Who the hell does this chick think she is? I almost went over there and bitch-slapped the little whore into the next century. I HATE people like this. I HATE it when people criticize other people’s bodies. What the hell do they know about the people they are criticizing? Frick. This chick really pissed me off. If she can only “get serious” about him if he had rippling abs and a super tan, THEN SHE FREAKING SHOULD RETHINK HER STUPID RELATIONSHIP, because it’s obviously one based just a little too much on the physical. Anyway, I’m sure, if he remained her boyfriend, he’d lose weight in no time, seeing as how he’d have to run to buy her lattes from Starbucks or more trailer-trash hair highlighting crap from beauty stores or pregnancy test kits from Rite-Aid every three days. Dear GOD. Honestly, if the physical part is really bothering her, she should talk to him in private (if at all; personally I think she should get a clue that not every man comes directly from a flippin’ J. Crew magazine) and not talk to her preppy friends about him behind his back, cause if she’s gonna do that to him, that makes her scum and she doesn’t deserve the guy. She should just pull her low-rise, ugly, conformist jeans up over her butt crack, close her damn compact for once in her vain, look-driven life, and SHUT THE HELL UP.
GOD.
Okay.
Rant over.
Back to normal.
Hey!
Watch your back, you egomaniacal hobo.
You know who I’m talking to.
If you don’t, then it’s not you. So don’t freak out.
Like, OMG!!!!!!!!!111
It amuses me how many people have cell phones–and use them 20 hours per day.
It amuses me how many people wear the same style of clothes.
It amuses me how many people have the same hairstyle and hair coloring and highlights.
It amuses me how many people seem to enjoy letting others see their buttcracks.
It amuses me how many “likes” people seem to get into their conversations.
Oh wait…these things don’t amuse me at all.
Pissy.
Incompetent people suck.
I’m so pissed off about this whole situation I went through today. Let me lay it out for you:
I’m Teacher’s Aide for Mr. Kaag during 2nd hour. He asks me to go copy some tests, so I go up to the copy room to do it. In front of me in line are the two most incompetent girls I’ve seen in…well, a couple minutes, considering I was at high school. Anyway, they’re these two ditzy, scantily-clothed, room-temperature I.Q. chicks are laughing obnoxiously while they’re trying to figure out how to make copies. I mean really, people, how hard is it? You put the paper you want to copy on the tray. You press in (at most) 3 specifications. You press “start”. Simple, right? Not simple enough for these Neanderthal-like girls, who somehow manage to jam the machine at least 10 times–each time bending over to allow me a clear (and very unpleasant) view of their butt-cracks. Of course, I tried to help them, but gave up after about the 5th paper jam and spent the rest of the time waiting for them entertaining myself by banging my head repeatedly on the desk.
I can just see these two chicks IM-ing their friends later that night:
hotgurl39: OMG i like tottaly jamed the copymachine at shcool today!!!!hottieluv: dude u shouldve like gotten help form 1 of those geeky ppl
hotgur39: being a TA is hard!!!!! :P im going to like mary a smrt guy
hottieluv: hed be like bill gates and be rich and he could by u teh car you always wanted. hey are u goin to teh mall today with me and ali
hotgurl39: duh! i need new shoes!!!!! lol
Finally (after about an hour) they half-ass their way through enough copies to allow themselves to go back to their class, leaving me with the message, “I bet it won’t work for you, either!”
I flawlessly copied 40 13-page tests without jamming the copier.
ARRRRGH!!!! I hate incompetent people. When I become President of the United States, I’m going to be sure to fire promptly anyone who shows even the slightest bit of incompetence.
Pissed off.
Eigenblogger 