123Valerie Strikes Again

Unprecedented Self-Indulgence.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Jeremiah Was a Bull-Headed Toad

I like it when kids call me "Miss 123Valerie."

I also like that dogs' feet smell like Fritos. Growing up, we called this phenomenon Frito-Feeto.

One thing I don't particularly like these days is Roommate Jeremy. (Oh are we back on him already? Geez, 123Valerie. You already moved out. Get a life.)

Yes, we are back on him, because he provides so much material. He gets an F minus, as my friend Allison would say, as a human being. If he weren't such a douche bag, then I wouldn't have to write that he was such a douche bag, now would I? So, if you don't want to read any more posts about Roommate Jeremy, tell him to quit it.

Until then, the rants will continue.

I returned to his apartment this weekend to clean and paint the room where I spent six months of my life. I kind of got suckered into the painting because, while I did hang several pictures, I was NOT the one responsible for the mystery stain on the wall behind the T.V. That was there when I arrived, but somehow it got blamed on me. The stain had kind of a reddish hue and looked a little bit like a profile of Alfred Hitchcock.
The mystery stain looked kind of like this. It's now covered with Antique White.

Not the point.

The point is that Roommate Jeremy got bent out of shape because I chose Antique White and not Ultra White paint.

"What the fuck? I told you just to get white," Roommate Jeremy interjected.

"Um, I did."

"It's not white. It's off white." Ever the discerning artist, our Roommate Jeremy.

"It's an eighth of a shade different, J. I'm going to paint the whole room. What's the big deal?"

"Well, whatever. Just make sure you do enough coats." Thank you , Bob Villa.

"Go away."

Roommate Jeremy, sensing my aggravation, made a half-hearted offer to help, but quickly abandoned that when he got an invite for street hockey.

"Yo, I'll see you later. Don't steal anything."

Oh, poor disillusioned Roommate Jeremy. "Noted, J. I was planning to take the IKEA coffee table you got for free and your Marlboro points cookbook, but the judicious appeal you made struck a chord in my conscience." Asshat.

"Hey, I paid $10 for that coffee table."

Roommate Jeremy wasn't gone nearly long enough, but I had finished painting by the time he returned.

"Well, J. I guess that's it. JennyJenny8675309 and I are going to have a party sometime soon to welcome me to the neighborhood. I'll send you the details," I said, apparently feeling very generous.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna be out of town."

"Well, J., we don't even know when the party's going to be," I remarked.

"Yeah, I know. I just think I'm gonna be busy."

Oh. I see. You are a butt-sniff.

I left feeling kind of low, for reasons that I couldn't quite articulate. But, I felt much, much better when I got home and smelled Wonder Dog Bean's feet. Mmmm. Fritos.

For the record, Wonder Dog Bean has yet to get "leid." She's very virtuous, unlike me.

Tell me your best insult for Roommate Jeremy in the Comments section. My favorite entry wins a chance to kick him in the balls.

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