Keeping Up with the Jonzee still at the right spot.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

If I stabbed him, I'd be Wrong. Right?

My situation is not unusual. I am 30 years old and I have two roommates. Perhaps it is unusual for folks in other places, but those who live in the megalopolis corridor (Boston to DC), and particularly those who live in NYC know, that when the average one bedroom within 6 miles of the center of Manhattan is nearly $1500 (1800 in Manhattan), roommates sound like the best idea in the world.

That is. Until one day you wake up and realize you could stab a muufuuca.

I have two male roommates. And that has actually never failed me before. Yes, I have had to be the mother hen in some cases. But because we have been friends or friends of friends--and all of the them liked to entertain--keeping things relatively clean was not a big deal. Of course, there were a few times I had to be like "I'm not Hazel" but I'm sure there were a few for them as well.

But my current roommates are in a whole different category. The one roommate is never, ever here. He's always with his S.O. When he is he always does the big projects. Like clean out the basement. Mow the lawn. Scrub some other shit that needs to be cleaned. Sweet. Do you.

The other one? He gone make me stab him and help him move in with Jimmy over in East Rutherford by the stadium. He is a slovenly and lazy, and if it weren't for me, we had have baked on caked on dirt and God knows what else in this house. And now that I am rarely home, it pisses me off that I still have to clean after him.

Cooks? Washes the dishes, leaves the crumbs and shit on the counter. Takes a shower? Leave huge clumps of black hair in the drain. So tired I am of throwing it out, that now I stick the shit to the mirror. Do you think he has a gotten a clue? Naw. Trash? I used to collect all the trash on the first level and take it out because it is always full. Then I started collecting the trash, bagging it up, and putting it by the front door so someone could take it to the bin on their way out in the morning. Now, right now. The trash is overflowing and his...whew. He decided to just make a new trash bag right next to it.

Oh and lets not forget the rest of the bathroom. I was away for 10 days. I came back the bathtub was so dirty I almost threw up. And lastly there is the yard. I have taken care of it all summer. I have asked, directed, and initiated a cleaning charge. He said he would do it. The shit looked like "Where the Wild Things are". So what does this numskull do? He goes and gets the neighborhood crack head with a weedwacker to clean the yard, who promptly commences to whacking down the two rose bushes.

I've never met a more lazy motherfucker in my life. All he does on the weekends is sit in his room, play some stupid war game, and watch his plasma. Its not like he has a difficult job. I mean at one point I was in school full-time, working full-time, had a new relationship, and was trying to write my thesis, and still kept my shit together.

I'm too old for this shit right here. This muufuuca gots to go.


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