I live by myself, and I've always felt that, with my hatred of cleanliness and penchant for parading around in ripped, yellowed unmentionables, that I am beyond having room mates. I can barely have house guests. Or, if I do, they must not be able to smell or stop looking at my crotch.
I'm being forced to have a room mate over the summer. Not because I'm broke, which I am, but because my parents are kicking my sister out and she has no where to go. Well, they're not really kicking her out, more like she's getting laid off from her room because there's no space for her right now.
She doesn't want to live with me either. She says I'm gross and annoying. But grandpa has to move into her room until his house gets built. So, she can either be my, or my 86-year-old Polish grandpa's room mate. Grandpa'll cramp her style because he likes to talk about God, Belarus, the army, and death. He keeps trying to force us into the military, get married, and have babies with weird Polish guys.
She's trying to force me to clean out my office because she won't sleep on my "grungy-ass couch." I wonder how she'll feel sleeping in my "grungy-ass toilet."
At least I'll have an intern all summer long.
DID YOU HEAR THAT STEPHANIE? YOU WILL BE MY INTERN. I'LL GIVE YOU CREDIT.
NOT COLLEGE CREDIT, BUT MORE LIKE A NOD.
This is a picture I made about how I feel.
You can't read it because I don't have an intern to show me how to make it bigger.
But the little bubble says, "I spend too much time on eyebrows," and the big bubble says, "I think I'm too good to sleep on Melissa's couch because I'm afraid of a little rabbit pee. I'm so college. I got all the Polish genes in the family and I burn easily. I wish I had Melissa's hair."