Orca's Birthday...Already Off to a Great Start!

Okay so today is Orca's birthday and Smelly has decided that they will spend it here, with me, while I bitterly sit at my laptop gorging the free alcohol they give me.

Now when I got back this morning, I decided to make myself some coffee. Working to my advantage is the fact that Smelly has decided to clean for the first time all semester, this includes doing the numerous dishes he has let pile up in the sink. In our defense, there comes a point every spring semester, while living in this apartment complex, where the dishes get so piled up that no one even wants to touch them, much less clean them.

So anyway, I find a coffee cup and I fill it with coffee and I take a sip and, mother fucker, all I taste is dish soap. Then it occurs to me, I probably shouldn't have trusted the task of cleaning the dishes to someone who can't even clean themselves properly.

So Smelly and Orca have decided to take a shower together...the only time I see him shower...and how they fit in our minuscule bathroom, much less in the shower stall, is beyond me. I can only imagine the chaffing caused by the metal shower doors pressing into Orca's sides...okay, I grossed myself out.

So anyway I was sitting here in the room when Orca comes running in holding all of Smelly's clothes and both of their towels and yelling,

"HAHA I took his clothes and the towels, now he'll have to walk back naked!"

I mean, I used to wrestle, and we used to have to weigh in before matches in nothing but underwear, and if you were still overweight, you would have to remove your underwear, cup your balls, and step on the scale with pride. So, needless to say, I'm prepared to see the worst.

Then Smelly comes marching into the room holding my fucking hand towel over his dick, and the only thing I could say is "You're washing that."

Now this sucks on a-whole-nother level. See, that is my hand towel, I have brought this hand towel from home so that we would continue not needing paper towels in this apartment. I have reduced the need for paper towels in the kitchen by stealing napkins from the cafeteria every time I go, but as for the bathroom, I think all we needed was a hand towel.

Well now my hand towel has smelly Orca spit covered penis all over it, so happy birthday Orca, here is a hand towel.

Sneaking Beer into the Library/Team Wiener Cousins

Allow me to preface this entry by saying that I HATE having a blog. There is no way to introduce having a blog into a conversation without sounding like a douchebag.

Anyway, so there is a girl in my creative writing class, lets call her Creative Writing Girl(CWG) and she may be the hottest girl I've ever seen in my life. How and why she is interested in me though is beyond my own capable explanation; I think she only likes me because she thinks I'm a good writer.

So we've been making plans to hang out and last night she told me to come keep her company at the library for a little bit while she wrote a research paper. Now just like every college, we have a big creepy library that you can disappear inside of and not find your way out for years, so I figure...I don't know...seclusion could lead to something...and I decide I will go visit her at the library. And as I'm getting ready to leave, an idea comes to me:

A big secluded library and a case of Keystones...think about it. You can take a backpack full of anything inside, its not like they'll check it, and the door alarms will only go off while you're leaving if you took a book with you. The only concern is getting rid of the empty cans, which I figure I can put right back into the backpack. But most importantly, even if I did get caught sneaking beer into the library, what would happen? Would I get expelled, again?

So I walk into the library with a backpack full of beer and find CWG sitting by herself at a table out in the frigin open. I try to hint to her that my backpack is full of alcohol...seeing how I'm not a student anymore, and she knows this, I would have no need to carry books. The catch is, I'm trying to hint this to her without the librarian at the counter right beside her fucking table hearing me say "HEY MY BACKPACK HAS TEN BEERS IN IT."

So finally she gets the hint and we move up to the nonfiction section, at a small secluded table beside the section of books written on James Joyce, and I brought two cups with me, they look like thermal coffee cups, and I pour us each a beer and, we've done it, we're drinking in the library. Now I'm wondering, is this a new low or an awesome accomplishment?

So we talk for a little but soon she gets back to writing her paper and I get bored playing with my phone, so i actually get up and grab a few books about James Joyce. So this is my evening, I am drinking in the library with a hot girl while she writes a research paper, and I read of critical essays on "Dubliners." Needless to say, this makes me want to go find Dubliners, but Dubliners is in the fiction section, so I must make the nauseating trek back downstairs, with my coffee cup full of beer, to find this book.

Twenty minutes later I return with Dubliners and Finnegan's Wake, for some reason, and I'm sitting at this table now reading Joyce. Then about an hour passes, and I realize we have not said a word to each other beyond her asking me for another beer. So she goes:

"You're like really getting into that book, huh?"

So I tell her that, when I was a student, Joyce was my favorite writer, and blah blah blah. Then I even go so far as to read her the last page of "The Dead," (best words ever written IMO) and I guess this sealed the deal because she's meeting me at the bar tonight. So remember guys, when in doubt, quote Joyce:

"Generous tears filled Gabriel's eyes. He had never felt like that himself towards any woman but he knew that such a feeling must be love. The tears gathered more thickly in his eyes and in the partial darkness he imagined he saw the form of a young man standing under a dripping tree. Other forms were near. His soul had approached that region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead. He was conscious of, but could not apprehend, their wayward and flickering existence. His own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world: the solid world itself which these dead had one time reared and lived in was dissolving and dwindling."

So then I head back to my apartment where Hn2 greets me in my living room with a bottle of Captain. She then proceeds to tell me that her and Hn1 got into a huge fight and they are no longer friends, and Hn1 has deleted her from her facebook, and all this shit. So twenty minutes after hanging out and making a date with the hottest girl I've ever seen, here I am drinking Captain with my cockblock.

Now as we're sitting here, Ben texts me and asks if we are down to come hang out at his house, which I say yes to. So Bruce, who has come up to visit, picks up me and Hn2 and we head out to Ben's house to continue drinking. It is also about this moment when I realize that the sock on my right foot has a huge hole in it, which matches up almost perfectly to the healing cut on the sole of my foot. The reason behind the hole and the cut is because last time I passed out at Ben's house, he thought it would be funny to take a belt sander to my foot. So I make a mental note to myself not to pass out before everyone else again.

So we arrive and play some beerpong, and I tell Ben and Bruce about my drinking in the library with CWG. Then Ben asks what her real name is, and I tell her, and he replies by saying:

"Oh, I fucked her two years ago."

Now am I surprised? No. Am I mad? No. Am I worried now to have both of them together in a room? Yes. However, Ben is not someone who will intentionally steal a girl from me. We started playing beerpong together and he dubbed us "Team Wiener Cousins."

Team Wiener Cousins goes the distance and we win every game we play against Bruce and Hn2, and this whole time, Hn2 is bitching about her and Hn1 getting into a fight and all, and seriously, am I bad person if I am entirely indifferent to this?

So then we run out of beer, and Hn2 goes outside to have a cigarette. So I tell Bruce, who is meeting her for the first time, about how she is a total cockblock and everything, and in my somewhat drunken, angry state, I actually get mad at her for being such a cock block. Then Ben announces that he has class the following morning, and for a moment, I forget that it is actually a Wednesday night and people still have to go to class.

So Ben goes upstairs to his bed and Bruce grabs one of the three blankets in the living room and passes out on one of the three couches. I grab the other two blankets and start to fall asleep on another couch. Then Hn2 comes back in from her cigarette break to find that we are all passed out and runs over to wake me up.

"Mikee, get the fuck up, we're not sleeping here."

But I am drunk and half asleep so I somehow convince her that we are sleeping there. Then she asks me for a blanket, and I refuse to give her one because I'm pissed at her for some reason.

"You have two fucking blankets and you can't give me one?"

I'm not sure why, but I felt like I needed two blankets. I offered her a spot beside me on the couch, but after about two minutes she claimed it was too small of a couch for two people and she settled on the third couch. Without a blanket.

So I woke up at 8 this morning to her, royally pissed off. Yelling at me for not giving her a blanket when I had two, making her sleep there with no pillow, and not saying at the beginning of the night that I planned on passing out there.

Then we walked home together and she gave me a big hug and apologised saying that I'm the only one who cares about her anymore, in light of her and Hn1 getting into a fight.

...Is this a happy ending? I think so. Wtf, my stories aren't supposed to be inspirational.

A Glossary of Characters for Bob

At Bob's request, I will make a glossary of the characters in my life/that have already appeared in the blog:

Hot Neighbor number 1(HN1) is my neighbor and she is hot(obviously). I banged her a while ago and now she has a new boyfriend, but she is also a tool magnet and seems to flock towards only the douchiest guys.

Hot Neighbor number 2(HN2) is my other hot neighbor. She is loud, obnoxious, morbid, and very annoying but hot and sometimes funny. She also will go out of her way to cockblock me after we went to a psychic together, and the psychic told me that she would "hinder my future relationships."

Bigirl is a friend of mine, and a friend of both HN's. She is a cute bisexual girl who talks about sex a LOT, and this attracts all of my guy friends to her instantly.

The Bff is my best friend. She is also a girl. She is hot and people often find it weird that, in the two years we've known each other, we've never done anything, but I tell them that this is because she is not into white guys. She is the best wingman(girl?) ever.

Ben is a former roommate of mine who has a house now off campus. He is a good guy and tends to get very cocky sometimes, only to be funny. He will hit on every girl he sees, even if she is going out with his best friend, and I often get a little worried that he will steal a girl from me.

Hank is another former roommate of mine. We shared a room together in Fall 2009, and lived together all of last year. He is strait up PA white trash, but that is partially what makes him so funny. He has 3 DUI's, pees wherever he wishes, can eat a whole kitchen while drunk, and just plain does not give a shit about anything. He is now a highschool history teacher...go figure.

George Costanza is the kid I shared a room with all of last year. He is twice as nurotic as the real George Costanza, is always worried about getting sick and/or looking weird in front of people. His theories on life can be so laughable sometimes. Oh yeah, he is also convinced I came on his laptop.

Bruce, who has not been introduced yet, was our "seventh" roommate last year, in an appartment that only fit five people. He attended one class a week and always brought the alcohol into the situation. He always drove to the bar, every single night.

Smelly is my current roommate. He has showered 3 times all semester and smells absolutely horrible...basically he'll go a month without fucking but will smell like sex. He is disgusting, he leaves clothes and shit everywhere, and he has a fat girlfriend.

Orca is Smelly's fat girlfriend. She can be fun to talk to sometimes, but can also talk a little too much.

The Youngings are the other three people we live with. They are all sophomores.

Berries is a girl I banged a few times last year, and after each time, I found a convienent way to get rid of her.

Dino is a girl I was hooking up with at the end of last year. She is in the dreaded sorority. I was down with Dino until summer 2009, when she gained about 40 lbs.

Bathroom Girl is also in the dreaded sorority. We had a one night stand last semester and made plans to hang out again which she strongly ignored. She also denied my friend request on facebook, bitch.

Tall is the housemate of Dino and Bathroom Girl, and is a girl I banged this semester. She is three inches taller than me.

Georgia is a girl in my Poly Sci class and is Tall's best friend. She is 24 and divorced, but looks like a seventeen year old, and is originally from Georgia.

Tubbytits is a fat girl with huge tits who wants to fuck me, apparently.

RA is my ex girlfriend who was the building's RA last semester. She is a money grubbing bitch who is currently mooching off her 30 year old boyfriend.

Cousin 1 is my ex girlfriend from highschool.

Cousin 2 is my ex girlfriend from senior year of highschool through about a year and a half ago...yes they are each others cousins...not mine.

RGF, or roommate's girlfriend's sister, is the sister of one of the younging's girlfriends. I banged RGF earlier this semester.

I think that covers everyone important.

On a sidenote, Smelly just opened the closed door to our room, came in, got something, left, and didn't close the fucking door. Seriously, does that piss anyone else off? If the door is closed before you get there, close it when you fucking leave. I'm gonna go kick him off the living room tv so I could play COD and drink with HN2. Good night.

Adding to the list:

CWG, or Creative Writing Girl is a girl in my creative writing class who I am trying desperately to bone before she graduates. She is amongst the hottest girls I've ever seen and she fucked Ben two years ago and I'm convinced she is only into me because I'm a good writer.

Shorty is a girl we hung out with a lot last year and now I scarcely see around. She works at the food-stop.

Chant Girl is a friend of the Bff's that I've hooked up with, I think, solely because I was hammered and I kept coming up with funny chants.

Mom is another friend of the Bff's. She is my age and has a baby.

Fly-ass Greek Dude is the guy the Bff is "seeing."

Jegabombs is a friend of mine from home who goes to the same school as me.

Jungle is a friend of The Bff and is probably the hottest black girl I know.

The Infamous Cumming on the Laptop Incident

Here is a story from the vault that I may have to consider one of my favorites from my entire collegiate experience.

Now this takes place in the Spring Semester of 2009 when our apartment did not have an RA and I was living with six other guys, in a five person apartment, and we basically never stopped drinking. If I may also point out, the Spring Semester of 2009, for me, was all about my cum getting accused of doing things. My cum was accused of clogging a toilet once, it was accused of getting in a girl's hair, it was accused of staining one girl's shirt, but by far, the best accusation was when my roommate accused me of cumming on his laptop.

Okay so there was this girl, lets call her Berries...this is a nickname my roommate, Ben, gave her for some odd reason, and somehow, it fits. So Berries calls me and has me meet her at the bar and I take two of my roommates with me, amongst them is the kid I shared a room with that semester who is basically George Costanza.

Okay, in order to establish George Costanza's character, here are some George Costanza quotes:

"I can't wait to lose my hair, one less thing I have to worry about."
"I don't drink mixed drinks from bars because they never clean the glasses properly."
"I'm buying my own cough syrup, I'd use yours but you were sick when you used it."

Top all this off with the fact that he was twice as neurotic as the actual George Costanza and we got a character.

Now George Costanza was not planning on staying out this night because it was a Thursday and he had student teaching in the morning, so after about a half hour at the bar, he drove back to the apartment, and I stayed out with my roommate, Ben, and Berries.

So we throw the drinks back and I ask Berries if I could go back to her place but I can't because her roommate has a guy over, so I drunkenly call George Costanza and ask if he minded sleeping in the living room. Some how, he agrees, and when we arrive, he begrudgingly leaves the room so I could get laid.

So Berries and I do our thing and I wake up at about 10am to the fire alarm going off. Now we always had fire alarms, but they meant nothing, we didn't even have to evacuate, they basically only existed so that the underclassmen could evacuate...but Berries didn't know this, so I convinced her she had to leave and made her do a walk of shame in front of all the underclassmen.

So anyway, I go to my classes and I come back and it is beautiful out and the other roommates and me are outside throwing a football around outside our window. Now, at this point, I still felt kinda guilty about kicking George Costanza out of the room when he had to get up the next morning, so I was expecting him to be a little pissed off when he got back. What I was not expecting is the exact reason why he was pissed.

So we were outside and George Costanza comes back and tells me to come inside for a second. I do this, expecting to hear about how he was late for student teaching or something, but instead he takes me into our room, lifts up the cover to his laptop, and points to a flaky white stain on the power button and says, "What the FUCK is this?"

Now I am speechless. I was in utter disbelief. Is my roommate really accusing me of cumming on his laptop? For the life of me, I couldn't get over how someone could ever produce such an accusation. Now I am terrible at holding the absurdity of this moment in, so I burst out laughing and go back outside, which I think only made me look guiltier.

Apparently, George Costanza then informed every other roommate about my miraculous aim, and every other roommate found this almost as laughable as I did. Our one roommate, Hank, who is strait up Pennsylvania white trash, but the funniest kid I've ever met, was the only other roommate to see the stain before it was cleaned up. Hank hypothesized that someone ate a rice-crispy treat and then turned on the computer...ironically, there was a rice-crispy treat wrapper on Hank's desk. So technically, I should have been pardoned of all wrong-doing because, I mean come on, there ain't no way my cum flew across the room and landed perfectly on the power button of my roommate's laptop, which was closed at the time. Don't get me wrong, my cum is capable of many things, but staining the power button of a closed laptop? Meh, I don't think so.

Now needless to say, George Costanza did not so much as talk to me at all the next week. In fact the rest of the semester was kinda awkward and, eventually it occurred to me that he really does think I came on his laptop.

So soon George Costanza graduated and I didn't see him for about a year, but earlier this semester he came back to visit. Now our roommate Ben, who is also my cocky buddy from "The Italian Girl" story, decided to get both of us together when George Costanza came back, and ask for the truth about the whole cumming on the laptop incident. Now its been over a year, and I assume George can realize that the whole thing is laughable now...but NOPE, this fucker is still convinced I came on his laptop. No matter how many times I explain that the laws of physics make such an incident impossible, he cannot be more sure that I not only came on his laptop, but that I did it intentionally. Now really, do I have to keep explaining how absurd this whole thing is. Again, the conversation about aiming one's ejaculations for their roommate's computers became so ridiculous that I could not help myself from laughing obnoxiously.

Till this very day, George Costanza is convinced I intentionally came on his laptop and there is nothing I can do to convince him otherwise. But whatever, it made for a good story.

The Italian girl

So there was a girl in one of my classes this semester who was fresh out of Europe and had the greatest Italian accent I have ever heard. She was a decent looking girl too, and she was somewhat friendly. There was one catch though, this girl could not grasp the concept of "Take one, pass it back." Seriously, every time a handout was given to the class, when the pile of papers got to her, she would just keep every fucking paper. And now this concerned me because she sat right in front of me so every time there was a handout, I had to raise my hand and say I didn't have one. I guess "take one, pass it back," is an American thing.

So anyway I got really drunk last night and me and my buddy went to this Awesome Irish Pub that some of the college kids hang out at. Now to give you an idea of my buddy, he is the cockiest person in the world, but in a good way. He will not start fights with random people, but he will make it his job to hit on every girl, even if his friend is going out with them, just for shits and giggles. This could potentially cause a problem for me sometimes as I am ugly as fuck and he is not, therefore, I always had this fear in the back of my head that he could actually steal a girl from me.

So anyway, we're in the bar and we're sitting in a small booth talking to these two girls who he, somehow, started a conversation with...seriously, I think he guessed one of their astrological signs right and we were invited into the booth. So he is getting really close with his girl and I look back at my girl who is equally as fixated on him, possibly the worst wing-girl ever, and even after I buy her a frigin beer, she manages to say four words to me all night.

So I get up and see if I can find anyone else in the bar that I know and, while walking past the bathroom line, I run into...you guessed it...The Italian girl. So, keeping in mind that I'm drunk, the first thing I ask her is:

"Why do you suck at "take one pass it back?" Why can you not grasp this concept?"

See, that is me when I'm drunk, I will blindside people with shit I don't say when I'm sober but I think all the time. So needless to say, her reaction is something along the lines of "WTF?" But somehow, this was all in good humor, even though I was serious about her inability to master the American technique of handing out papers. She then proceeded to introduce me to all her foreign friends, and yes I'm not making this up, all of her friends were also exchange students from Europe. There was a dutch girl and a Swedish girl and a British girl, and they all knew English and had kickass accents. The catch was, they were all ugly as sin, and I would have brought them back to my booth except, I am a good wingman and did not want my friend to deal with some ugly Swedish girl all night.

So I leave this conversation and get in contact with HN1 and Bi-girl, another friend of ours. Now Bi-girl is a real character because she is not only bi-sexual, but she talks about sex more than everyone I know. The guys love it when I bring her to Rugby parties because, well, come on, a cute bisexual girl talking about sex, who wouldn't love that?

So the first thing HN1 does is bring up my school situation and, I did not realize this, but Bigirl was not aware that I got suspended.

"What are you gonna tell your parents?"

I think, oh shit, I don't know the answer to this. I mean, I am having them pay for a house for me to move into next semester, which they think is my last semester in school, but now I have to put my "education" on hold until 2011, when I'm older, fatter, and will probably have even less hair. So I inform her that I will pull a "Life Is Beautiful," and act like everything is okay, even though they will not be receiving bills for my tuition. ...I, then, had to explain to them that "Life Is Beautiful," is a movie about Italian Jews put into a concentration camp where the father does a good job convincing his young son the whole time that there was no evil in the world.

So then a group of girls approach my table, and, you guessed it, its the Foreign Exchange Club, and its Italian girl, and she thinks I should buy her a drink, and I, still drunk don't forget, say that her approach was "too American." I, then, proceed to shit on her foreignness, call them the "foreign exchange club," and inform HN1 and Bigirl about her inability to pass out papers. Somehow, this drew her closer to me, and now she is sitting beside me with her arm around me and Bigirl is offending the rest of the club by recanting stories of threesomes. Then my buddy spots me and gives me a highfive saying "good work!"

This was perfectly timed however with the entrance of three people from the Rugby team, so I force myself out of the booth to go hang out with male companions who won't make me buy them drinks or misinterpret my insults. The first thing one asks me is

"Why weren't you at practice today?"

I tell them about my suspension and they inform me about the game this weekend which, I guess, I can't play in. I then tell them about the Foreign Exchange Club that won't leave me alone until I buy them their European drinks, I don't know what fucking Europeans drink are, but I, sure as hell, am not paying for that shit here in America.

So I may have pointed to the table and, of course, they recognize Bigirl right away, so now there is about 20 people forcing themselves into this one booth so they can hear Bigirl recant stories about sex and girl on girl and stuff, and Italian girl is insisting a take the saved seat beside her, but upon seeing that I don't have a drink in my hand, immediately lets the seat be occupied by someone on the Rugby team. So I look around the bar for someone else I know and there is no one. Okay, that is a lie, I spot Disinterested Girl alone at the bar trying to buy another drink, my buddy and her friend got seats in the booth. So I go up to her and try to think of something cool to say...so I tell her about Italian Girl's inability to pass out papers. She nods and leaves.

Then, someone on the Rugby team takes her spot and orders four mixed drinks and informs me that they're for the foreign girls/my friends at the table. So this means, I guess, that I am off the hook for buying Italian girl a drink, and I return to the booth just in time to hear Bigirl comment on my "inability to park." Then I remembered that my car is still parked at the bar seeing how I left it there on Thursday when I drove there drunk to day drink more with Tall and Georgia...yes, I have lost track of my car, it happens all the time.

So anyway, the night winds down and I have HN1 drive my car back to campus. I also gave Italian girl a fake number and promised the Rugby guys I'd be at the game...which started about forty minutes ago.

Then I arrive in my apartment, which by the way is a total mess because Smelly leaves his clothes and shit in the living room...seriously, there are six of us and no one else leaves their shit in the living room, but he does. But then, I get to my room and, it is locked. I go to put my key into the door to unlock it just when I hear Smelly's fat girlfriend moan really loud. Now I kinda expected that I'd be sleeping on the recliner again tonight, but usually I get a sweatshirt to cover my crotch so I don't end up on www.awkwardboners.com except I can't get into my room to get a frigin sweatshirt.

So I woke up this morning on the recliner. Over my crotch was some random pair of pants I found on the floor.

Me and Lord Byron

Okay, I'm writing this post to establish my character better. I am/was an English major and I love, as gay as this sounds, learning about famous writers/texts. The catch is, by this point in my [mis]education, Romanticism is becoming so painfully boring that I can't wait to be done with British Literature in general.

That was, until I was given the assignment earlier this semester to do a presentation on Lord Byron.

Now all you really have to do is read anything Byron ever wrote to realize that he is the founding father of being an asshole through writing. Essentially, Tucker Max would be a 21st century Lord Byron if he ripped on other writers more.

And why else do I like Lord Byron? Because the guy got laid basically once a minute. It seems to me that he came a long way from being molested by his nurse at the age of ten, and once he grew up, he could not get a boner unless there was impending awkwardness.

That being said, Byron led a very scandalous life when he was young. See, Byron had an affair with this one married woman, and then dumped her in favor for her cousin. Was this shocking for me to hear? Yes.

See, when I was a senior in highschool I was going out with this girl who, in retrospect, was and still is psychologically fucked up beyond repair. I only worsened her psychological problems when, the summer after we broke up, I started dating her cousin, yes her cousin. Now this made for more than just an awkward Thanksgiving, I went out with cousin number two for three years, yes three years...this is probably why I'm such a manwhore now.

Oh but the parallel gets better.

Lord Byron was fairly close with fellow Romantic Poet Percy Shelley, you may know him as the wife of Mary Shelley, the bitch who wrote Frankenstein. Well Byron and the Shelleys went off to a cottage for a weekend to get drunk and discuss nature, I guess, and, to Byron's joy, Mary brought her younger sister along. ...nine months later, Byron's paying alimony for impregnating a sixteen year old.

Now I never banged a sixteen year old...but I did bang my roomie's girlfriend's sister. Okay, it was a Saturday night and two of my roommates were pledging for a frat and that frat had a huge party that night. Needless to say, my roomie's girlfriend got plastered and had her sister take her back to the apartment so she could throw up/pass out.

I was arriving back at the apartment at about the same time and, this was before I banged either hot neighbor, so I ditched the neighbors so I could talk to RGS(roomie's girlfriend's sister), plus, with me being the only single roommate in the apartment, and her just coming out of a six year relationship, she needed a good fucking.

Oh and don't forget I play rugby, and at this time, I had separated my right shoulder so my right arm was in a sling. Also don't forget that we have one piece of furniture in our living room and that is a shitty Salvation Army bought recliner. So I come in and I'm playing Call of Duty and she is out there hanging out with me. And then I remember trying to tie a bracelet to her hand for some reason, and this somehow led to a handjob. But, before I could even get hard, my apartment door swings open to reveal HN2 and, what is the first thing she does, cockblocks me. HN2 plops her ass right on my lap and introduces herself to RGS and I'm just thankful I was not hard yet because that would have made for an awkward moment.

So HN2 leaves and me and RGS make out a little and then I retire to the recliner to play more Call of Duty where, unknown to me, she was intending on sleeping that night. So what does this bitch do? She plops her ass right on my lap while I'm playing and falls asleep. Well about an hour passes, and I fall asleep too, hoping I don't get the cuddle morning wood.

About two hours later I wake up, possibly less comfortable than I'd ever been in my life. Making this situation worse is the fact that RGS has passed out putting all of her weight on my left arm. Now keeping in mind my right arm is in a sling, my left arm was now completely numb. So this means I did not have arms. Now I'm sitting in this shitty recliner trying to kick this girl off me so I could regain feeling in my good arm, and finally I wake her up and suggest she sleep in my bed. Well, you don't just share a bed with someone you gave a hand job to...

Okay so not only did both Lord Byron and myself bang two cousins, but we also banged the sister of our buddy's girlfriends. Where does this mean my sex life will go from here, if our sex lives really parallel each other? Well I need to meet an Italian girl in Venice who will become so obsessed with me that when I leave her, she'll throw herself into a canal and drown. Just a heads up, unless you're down with suicide, if you ever plan on going to Venice, stay away from me.

Thursday and Thursday night

So I had class this morning at eleven, but seeing how I am no longer a student, I did what any non-retarded person should do, and slept in. With that in mind, I got up at 11:30, made myself some coffee, and started this blog. I also decided it was time to tell the hot neighbors that I didn't actually go to school anymore, so I sent them both a text:

"Hey guess what, I'm not a student!"

Hot neighbor number two, after about twenty minutes of explanation, and countless texts back and fourth, finally decided we should discuss the matter over lunch, so the two of us went to the Food-stop on campus. Now this is something I still do not understand about my expulsion/suspension because in the beginning of the semester, I purchased a meal plan that would get charged along side my tuition. Seeing how I'm not a student, I am not paying tuition, and therefore am not paying for a meal plan, I shouldn't have a meal plan...but holy shit, I have a meal plan.

Now at the food-stop, there is a new rule that is being enforced heavily where you cannot bring a backpack inside, and we were standing in line waiting to pay for our food when we overheard the food-stop manager get into an argument with a girl over someone possibly stealing his laptop. I glanced back at the girl and found that she was in a certain sorority that should remain nameless, or at least I assumed this because of the sweater she was wearing, and so I told hot neighbor number two about my history with that sorority.

Okay, so my history with this sorority goes like this. Last year there was a girl I was hooking up with when we went on our apartment's barcrawl at the end of the semester. We had tailed her sorority so they would be leaving every bar once we arrived, and we had one drink and caught up to them at the next bar; it would look kinda fruity for the three of us to be traveling with all these hot slutty girls. But anyway, this girl's name is Dino, not because her parents named her after that big, purple dinosaur from the Flintstones, but because I always thought she looked like him; for the record, I never said this nickname to her face.

So anyway, summer came and Dino went back to her house somewhere in Southern Jersey and I went back to New York and we talked occasionally, and yes, I actually did like her. Then we got back to school and, how do I describe this, she must have gained 40 lbs. So needless to say, we stopped talking.

Then I told hot neighbor number two about my other experience with this sorority. This girl's name is "Bathroom Girl." Basically, she got this nickname because, one night me and my former roommate were at the bar and I was drunk and waiting in line for the bathroom at the same time she was, and then I black out for a little, but the next morning, I was in her bed with a used condom in the garbage. So we can only conclude that my pick up line had to be something along the lines of "so you waiting for the bathroom?"

This was all fine and good until I went to add her as a facebook friend(she was a beautiful girl). Also at this time, we had discussed plans to come to a Wing-night special that week. Well she did not answer my text about wing night, and she denied my friend request, so Fuck her, her nickname will always be "bathroom girl."

After having informed her about these two girls, Hot Neighbor number 2, who I will call HN2 from now on, started to bitch about her day and complain about her "long drive home," which she would partake in after our meal. At the same time, I had been invited by a girl in my Poly Sci class to go to her house and Day-drink, so I coerced HN2 to give me a ride to this girl's house before she left. And of course, upon dropping me off, she had to grab me, in front of everyone, and give me a big kiss and yell "BYE HUNNIE!" Just so that I couldn't get laid.

Anyway, the house I was at is owned by a girl in my class whose nickname is Georgia because, you guessed it, she is from Georgia. I was always a little iffy about Georgia, mostly because she was, apparently, married. She looks like a little 18 year old girl, barely legal, but she is actually 24 and someone's ex-wife, which is something that always creeped me out a little. Her friend is another character, I call her "Tall," because, you guessed it, she is 5'11. Now what makes my relationship with Tall even more interesting is that I banged her about a month ago. And what makes this more interesting is that I am only 5'8, so yes, I banged a girl who is three inches taller than me. Tall is also in the sorority I was talking about before.

But anyway, here I am getting drunk with two girls in my Poly Sci class one hour before we have to actually go to class. It was here that something occurred to me, and that was the fact that I play Rugby. Well, seeing how I'm not a student anymore, I wondered if going to practice was even necessary. I texted the team captain and told him about my predicament, the two of us initiated together so I usually talk to him about any thing when I have to miss practice or a game or something. Of course, I got no response.

So I have a drunk Georgia drive me back to my apartment where I grab my rugby stuff and run to the practice field. I tell the captain, in person, about my academic blunder and the Athletic Trainer overhears and makes me go home. That is right, if you are not a student, you are not ensured, and if I get injured during practice, even if I'm just standing and watching, the team gets royally boned. However, if I only kept my mouth shut, I could be out there playing in every game and no one would ever catch on.

Now by this point, Poly Sci has started, and I do not plan on going to this class sober, so I return to my room and start writing this blog again, and actually finish my first post. Right after I finish, the kid I share my room with, lets call him Smelly, and his fat girlfriend come busting in insisting I take shots with them. Now I am not someone who will deny free alcohol, no matter how little the supplier showers(seriously, he has never showered, hence the nickname "smelly"). So now I'm drunk and Poly Sci gets let out, and Georgia and Tall insist I meet them at the bar for more day drinking. Don't ask me how I drove to the bar to meet them.

So now here I am, outside of the bar drinking and eating from the buffet of greasy food, I am unshowered, wearing a stretched out t-shirt, need to shave, and basically, I just feel like a total slob. And so I drink a few beers, and I try to convince the table of girls that my apartment is haunted(which it is), and then I remember that I somehow mustered up the strength to drive to the bar and should probably try to sober up before driving back. I inform them and then Tall insists:

"You can shower at my house."

Now usually this would seem weird, but we went on a road trip the previous weekend to another school and I totally left my bag of toiletries in my car, seeing how they were extras of what I already had in my apartment, this includes a razor, shampoo, soap, body wash, etc. So I decide, instead of drunk driving back to my apartment, I'll shower at Tall's house and have hot neighbor number one pick me up so I could get changed...okay it made more sense when I was drunk.

So there I was outside of Tall's house staring at the four cars that were parked in her driveway and recalling how familiar one of them looked. The house itself was familiar too and I was fairly certain that I'd been there before, but I couldn't remember why.

...Then I walked inside and there were her roommates: Dino and Bathroom Girl. Now, there may be nothing more awkward than when you feel like a total drunken slob and walk into a house occupied by three girls you not only fucked, but gave nicknames to. Also coming to my head was the realization that, I'm sure, none of them even realize that I know the others, and for a second, I wanna challenge Bathroom Girl on our one-night stand, and ask "Hey why didn't you accept my friend request?" Then I want to be an asshole and ask Dino why she gained 40 lbs and find a picture somewhere of her when she was skinny and hot and hold it up for comparison. But I do none of these things because I am a respectable person, I simply say hello to the both of them and proceed into the shower. -Okay that is a lie, I asked Bathroom Girl why she never accepted my friend request and I told Dino that I liked her when she was hot, and then I jumped into the shower before either of them could answer.

Now this is a really shitty house, so there is virtually no insulation in the walls, and from the shower, with the shower head being this dripping dick of drizzles, basically the worst shower I've ever used, I could faintly hear the girls talking, most likely about me and my rash entrance. Suddenly, I feel like an asshole and, once I get out of the shower, I call HN1 to come get me.

"Why didn't you just shower back at the apartment?"

I don't fucking know, HN1, because I'm drunk and retarded and just wanted to shower, and oh yeah, I found out that I fucked a house full of girls.

Okay, tangent time about my hot neighbors. So like I said, I am in an "on campus," establishment, but its more like an off-campus apartment which can only be occupied by students(its funny I still live there because, well, I'm not a student). Okay, so last semester the school decided they were gonna be assholes and employ an RA for our building, all of last year we didn't have a fucking RA, and I am 22 years old, RA's are for freshman. But anyway, the RA turned out to be totally hot. Once more, she lived across the hall, and had two, totally hotter, roommates.
Now I remember telling my sophomore roommates one day that I would fuck the RA just so we could get away with anything we want...never in a million years did I expect to actually fuck the RA, or for that matter, go out with the girl. Secretly, in the back of my head, I actually wanted to get to her hotter roommates(HN1 and HN2), and there is no better ice breaker than "Hey, I used to date your roommate, lets fuck."
So long story short, the RA turned out to be a complete bitch, just like most RAs, and she dropped out of school and moved to some hick town with her new 30 year old boyfriend(maybe another day's discussion), and this worked out in my favor because now it was just me and my hot neighbors. So to wrap up this semester in a sentence, I fucked HN1 some time in February, and we used to go places pretending to be together, then I fucked HN2 a few weeks ago, then went to a psychic and found out she was a "cock-block," then made the mistake of telling her this, so now she goes out of her way to cock block me(like dropping me off at Georgia's house before). So, HN1 is no stranger to my ability to fuck complete households of girls.

Okay so, its time to go out, and HN1 goes to her new boyfriend's house, leaving me and my best friend, who is a girl by the way, alone to pregame. Now it is usually a bitch getting the bff to go out on a Thursday, so I had to play a drunken sympathy card, "Come on, I just got expelled! I wanna get shitfaced!" So we went out.

Seeing how it was just us, and both of us like beer, we got to go to the cheap beer special at one of the bars which we hadn't been to in ages since the HNs only drink liquor. Now it was here that we ran into Tubbytits. Now Tubbytits is a friend of a friend of mine who, up until a few weeks ago, I never had extended interaction with. Also, I'm pretty sure the name, "Tubbytits," should give you an image of what she looks like-see, when the only positive thing you can say about someone is "they have big tits," they are most likely fat, just like Tubbytits! Anyway, I digress, so Tubbytits knew who I was and immediately came over to say hello.

The catch was, Tubbytits was hammered too, and she ran over and gave me a big, tubbytitted hug. This moment got about ten times creepier when she leaned into my ear and whispered:

"So Mikee, did you know I want to fuck you?"

Now I could go the asshole route, like I did at Tall's house, and say something like, "yeah well I don't want to fuck you!" Or I could go the wildcard route, and figure that, maybe after a few more beers and hot girl rejections, I may want a safety net. So I say "Um, yeah."

So some time passes and I get a text from Tall telling us to meet her at another bar, so me and the Bff head over. Now I tell the Bff everything, so I told her about Tubbytits and she assured me that Tubbytits actually "gets her share of hot guys." This was weird to me because, one, I'm ugly as fuck, and two, if I whispered something like that into a girl's ear that I'd only hung out with twice, there would probably be a restraining order against me...I mean, I can't even get one night stands to accept my friend requests.

But anyway, we get into the other bar, which is actually more like a club, and it is crowded beyond recognition. Sure enough, I also run into three people on the Rugby team and I tell them about how I got expelled, and how this means I can't play, and why I wasn't at practice all week, and they all reply, "oh neither were we." -not too important, I know.

Then Tall comes swooping in and starts hanging on me, clearly also hammered beyond recognition. Now I don't think Tall is that ugly, I don't think she's cute either and actually, when I fucked her, I kinda told everyone that I did it only for the story, but I am slowly getting drunker and drunker and she is slowly getting cuter and cuter, even though she is too drunk to even stand. Regardless, I had my safety net and began to look for girls I can bang, preferably girls with a bed of their own seeing how there would be a lot of Smelly-Fat sex going on in my room, and its awfully hard to fuck on the recliner in the middle of my living room.

So needless to say, the night winded down and I told the Bff that I would walk home, so she can leave with a random guy. Now this left just me and my safety nets, and I was not feeling Tubbytits, so I set out to find Tall in the crowded club-bar. And I found her...talking to some 50 year old local...so I jumped in so the old guy would go away. Now that it was just me and her drunk ass standing by the bar, I had about ten people come up to me, "dude, she's drunk, what are you doing?" And I had to offer my own alibi to every single one of them, "Its okay! I know her!" And then she had to drunkenly second my alibi every fucking time, "THIS IS MIKEE!"

Then she falls. Then a bouncer kicks her out. Then I meet her outside and decide that I will walk her home. And I kinda wish I didn't do this because, at this point, I am starting to realize that I made the wrong choice of safety nets...I'd take fat over date-rape plastered any day. Seriously, I felt like such a filthy slob by the time we reached her house that I wanted to shower again.

So after walking this girl the mile back to her house, and of course not getting invited inside, also while holding in what may be the biggest piss of my life, I get pissed at myself for not being able to fuck anything better than a 6(I'd give Tall a 6/10, Tubbytits gets a 3.5) and I actually contemplate asking if any of her roommates are up. But before I could even say anything, the door is closed and its 3am and its time for me to walk home by myself, but not before I vent my anger. I ripped the rear-view mirrors off every car in the driveway, threw them onto the side of the house, and released my monstrous piss...on them.

Thank You Keither

Okay I guess I should get things started by telling you about my day

Well, to start things off, I am Mikee, with two e's, and, of course if you can actually read the bio thing over on the side of the blog, I am not technically a college student. I also hate blogs, and I really don't give a shit who reads this, so if you do, please ignore my conventions.

Anyway, here is the start. I had an epiphany today when I realized that I do not actually go to school here, this small University in Pennsylvania(don't want to give the name of the school) that I have been "attending" classes at for the better part of the last two years. See, the advisement here is absolutely horrible, and educators don't interact with people working at housing or people working at the registrar, that means, I can keep up a perfect attendance record in all my classes without either of the later offices ever finding out. To sum it all up, I have been receiving an education all semester, without paying for school, since I am not enrolled anymore, and without paying for housing, as I live on campus. This may also be a good time to inform you guys that I am in four classes this semester, three of which I am getting easy A's in and the other, I'd be happy with a D. Its all for naught now though.

Allow me to go back further. I say I plan on going all the way back to December, before this most recent semester started. I was on a Call of Duty binge every night, I would play from about four pm, when I woke up, until seven am, with a small break in the middle for when my friends would come over and drink/we'd go to the bar. This became my routine for winter break, play call of duty, packing lip after lip, until the sun came up, and then sleep till 4 and do it all over again, and why not? I was unemployed and out of school, and plus, its not like I was spending any money that I didn't have, except for when I went to the bar. So the story starts at about noon one day, I don't recall what day it was. I had been in bed for a whopping five hours, fast asleep, when I was awoken by my mother:

"Mikee!" She called up the stairs, "Guess what? You just got expelled!"

And so there I lay in bed, half asleep and staring at my ceiling, thinking, "what?" I had no clue what she was talking about at first, and then when it clicked, "expelled...from school," the first thought that came into my half-asleep head was, "shit, I should have went to bed earlier."

So anyway, I went back to sleep for three more hours and then went downstairs to find out what the fuck was going on. It turned out I had received a letter in the mail from the school saying something along the lines of

"You are on academic suspension, please vacate your belongings from campus, blah blah blah."

I did not panic though, for some odd reason. I texted my hot neighbor and told her I got suspended, but I also told her not to worry because I still planned on living in my on campus apartment anyway. I also texted a few more friends, laughing about it, suggesting that I would fight this suspension, even though I really didn't give two fucks. Before I knew it, my mother had printed a transcript of my grades, pointing to a part of the letter that informed me I was suspended for not maintaining a GPA of 2.25...on second look, it said QPA(Cumulative GPA, why Q stands for Cumulative is beyond me), but it appears that after three semesters of sub-par academic standings, the University was finally ready to off me for a whole frigin year. Now I don't know if all schools do this, I never gave enough of a shit to check at my old schools, and Pennsylvania's State education system tends to be pretty retarded, but basically your GPA is based on the letter grades you receive for each course. Basically, an A=4, B=3, C=2, D=1, E(not F) and/or I(Incomplete)=0, and all these numbers are added together and divided by the amount of courses you have taken. So my GPA for Fall Semester, three C's and an Incomplete(I) gave me a GPA of 1.2. I suddenly saw an opportunity.

"If I could argue that Incomplete grade to a B," I thought, "I would get a 2.25 GPA and be able to remain a student!"

So this was the class I got an Incomplete grade in, Shakespeare. And this was my Shakespeare class, come if you want, or don't, and watch movies based on Shakespeare's plays! Hell, even the teacher knew the class was a joke.

"You will pass this class," he assured us on day one, "if you know two things: 1. The first Canto was published in 1624 and 2. Shakespeare died in 1616."

Now I am/was an English major, in case you guys don't know this already, so to not get an A in this class would be bullshit. I, however, didn't humor the 86 year old teacher with my presence too often, since attendance didn't mean much(actually, we weren't sure seeing how there was NO syllabus), so I did not mind my spotty attendance resembling a B instead of an A. Oh and to go back for a second, when I say 86, that is not an over-statement. He was 86 and when we weren't simply watching the movie versions of Shakespeare's plays, he was recanting us with anecdotes about people we never met before/don't care to ever meet.

One day, while watching some shitty 1930's version of "As You Like It," starring some shitty German actress who's accent, dubbed over by that annoying old-time movie hiss, was so undecipherable that I began doing math equations in my notebook, the girl who sits beside me tapped me on the arm. "Look at him," she insisted. I panned my head around to the back of the class where good-ol' 86 year old sat upright in a desk, with his head against the white cinder-block wall, his eyes shut and his body appearing lifeless. "Is he dead?" Okay, now if you are familiar with "As You Like It," I'm pretty sure you should know that there is a large duration of the play where this shitty German actress had to frolic around looking like a gay guy so she could please some other dude, but, needless to say, the class conversed in whispers over this whole scene contemplating calling an ambulance. I guess I was happy when he woke up, and turned out to not be dead, but it could have been a fun twist to the evening.

So back to December, 2009. I write the 86 year old an email:

"Hi, I just received my grades and I see that you have given me an I for the Shakespeare class I took with you. Seeing how I got a B(actually a C), on the midterm, and a B+(actually a B) on our only paper, this grade does not make sense to me. Can we discuss this?"

It is shortly after sending it that I realized, he is 86, and therefore, is probably not computer literate. Waiting for his response was the first time I faced the mortality of my education, but he did reply, surprisingly.

"You didn't hand in the final assignment(bullshit), drop a hard copy into my mailbox when you get back and I'll change the grade."

Okay, easy B, or, maybe even an A, and I'll be a student again, awesome! So awesome, I ignored the fact that this final assignment was, as said numerous times by him, "optional!" But, pushing for a possible A, I wrote the bullshit paper anyway, put it in his mailbox, and started my Spring, 2010 Semester.

So Spring Break came and went, and that was the same time midterm grades went out, so, needless to say, I was baffled when mine had not been posted online, like everyone else's were. Also baffling was the fact that I had not received notification that it was time to make my schedule for Fall 2010, which everyone else also received. I probably would not have even thought twice about this had I not run into my adviser, while in the cafeteria with hot neighbor number two, and he asked when I wanted to make my schedule.

So we set up a date, and I came into his office where he informed me that I would be graduating after the Fall 2010 semester...after four and a half years of college, four schools, two majors, one arrest, and numerous lays, my collegiate career would finally end gloriously. Then he went to give me my pin number...this is a number that the adviser gives the student so they can log onto the online registration form and make their schedule...and he finds that mine does not exist. Slowly, I realize exactly what happened, 86 year old fuckhead hasn't changed the frigin' grade yet so now I'll have to register late and get shitty classes, thank you, you old fuck. I inform him about this and he looks at my transcript before sighing.

"Um, it says you've been suspended."

"What?" I act appalled.

"It says your GPA wasn't high enough, in fact, you're not even enrolled in class right now."

I stare at the screen, acting like it will give me an answer to a question I'm not asking. He also stares at the screen, probably convinced it was some kind of typographical error; if you rated my passion for English over my grades, one would think I was a fantastic student.

"That is it," I said, "he didn't change the grade!"

"No, the grade's been changed, it says you got a C in Shakespeare."

A C? I think, Really? Now I have to go appeal this too. ..."That's what I meant, he was gonna change it to a B."

"Oh," My adviser responds, "in that case, here is what I recommend taking next semester, and you should make an appointment with the department chair to get your pin-number."

So when I get back to my apartment, I email the 86 year old again:

"I was just informed that I received a C in your Shakespeare class, even though, I think, my grades add up to at least a B. I got a B+(actually a C) on the midterm, and an A(actually a B) on the first paper, and a B+(I don't actually know) on the final paper. Can we please discuss how you got to this conclusion?"

So two weeks passed and, what do you know, the old fucker has not responded, I had a theory that perhaps he was selectively computer illiterate. I even went to his office to try and see him but I was informed, by another teacher, that he was in Europe. Okay, that's great, I need to re-appeal a grade, so I can get credit for my classes this semester and the 3 A's I planned on receiving, and also so I can make my schedule for next semester before the classes fill up, and the teacher with whom I must appeal the grade is in fucking Europe. Somewhat agitated, I make an appointment with the chair lady.

Now the chair lady does not know my name, does not know my face, has never had me as a student, and still, probably, wouldn't be able to pick me out of a crowd, but I walked into her office, after my last class of the day, and gave her a rundown.

"Look," I said, "[86 year old] gave me an A on the last paper, a B+ on the midterm, and a B on the first paper and then he gave me a C for the class. I think I deserve a B, plus, I am not allowed to make my schedule until this is fixed blah blah blah."

She was shocked and said she would send him an email which he Had to answer. She then asked me to forward the emails I told her I sent him and I gasped, somehow only sending her the last email so it appeared my contradicting grades were somewhat close to what I told her.

About a week later, I got an email from her saying she convinced him to change the grade, and I thought everything would be okay. Two days after that, I got an email from him:

"Dear Mikee, After consulting with [Chair lady](who persuasively argued your cause), I have decided to raise yours to a "mercy" grade of B, in view of your situation relating to academic probation; since I believe that you are capable of doing outstanding academic work when you apply yourself though I felt that you should have done a better job on the Shakespeare Take Home Final. Let this course serve as a wake-up call that you need to apply yourself consistently if you want to do well in school (and in life). Best Holy Weekend wishes! The change will take ten days to implement." -Needless to say, I did not respond at all.

So ten days came and passed and well, you guessed it, I had still not received notification that I could make my schedule. Assuming 86 year old probably either forgot or died, I made another appointment with Chair lady.

Now this is on April 20, 2010, or 4/20. Now I don't smoke much weed, but I will defend it to the death because, frankly, it should be legal, but this is another day's discussion.

I walked into chair lady's office and, I swear to God, she was high. I mean, I told her that 86 year old had not yet changed my grade and the bitch stared at me for about two minutes, not saying a single word. Finally, she turned around and looked up my transcript, and then informed me that I was wrong, he had changed the grade, BUT, I was still suspended. She gave me the names of two deans I should go talk to and that's where I stopped listening because, well fuck it, there's one week left in the semester, and I have a ten page paper due at 4 today(oh shit, 18 minutes ago) which I am yet to even start. Hello free education!