Things Not To Do If You Are Someone's Roommate

For the last 2 1/2 years, I've lived in an awesome house in the San Fernando Valley with 3 roommates: 2 boys and a girl. My interhouse relations with the guys have ranged from absolutely fine to goddamn perfect. The girl, on the other hand, is a nightmare. Well, one of the guys is getting married now and I'm moving into an apartment with the other one in about a week, mostly to get away from the hell that the girl makes our lives. So, in celebration, I give you:

Things Not To Do If You Are Someone's Roommate

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1. Sleep on the couch all day and night. Your unending presence is obtrusive, and you may be taking the concept of "living room" too seriously. STOP.

2. Eat other people's food. I know all of the eggs you bought went bad weeks ago, but that doesn't mean that you can eat someone else's. I know that you really wanted a salad with dinner, but that does not mean that the lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers are yours. I know that you and your idiot boyfriend got really drunk and really wanted to eat veggie fried rice, but unfortunately I bought it for myself. Of course, I didn't know you were going to get wasted and eat it anyway. I probably would have left a note telling you not to. My bad.

3. Have loud wild sex in the middle of the day without checking to see if any of your roommates had or were going to have company over.

4. Leave the stove burning while you nap.

5. Let your gross bald boyfriend walk around in only his boxers. His body is your problem, not ours.

6. Blame the destruction of the house caused by your dog on someone else's animal. Your dog chews on the door and scratches it every day, I took care of my Mom's dog once for three hours. Sorry but your bitchy scapegoating has no logic.

7. Double-fist a bottle of wine and a bottle of holy water your mom bought you to get better. I'm pretty sure that won't help mend your ailments, and I'm pretty sure that's the definition of blasphemy.

8. Never clean up anything ever.

9. Leave the pink bean bag that you heat up and then warm up and then place on your genitals in the microwave. We tend to cook food in there, mostly. In fact, don't leave that thing anywhere. WHY DO YOU EVEN HAVE THAT?!

10. Remember that gross bald boyfriend I talked about? Yeah, thats the guy! Please don't give him gyrating lap dances in the living room when I'm trying to watch TV.

and finally...

11. Stop complaining to us about problems in your life. If only you could understand all the things that you put people through, maybe you'd realize that you really don't have it as bad as we do for having to live with you.

10 days left and counting...

Bloggity Blog Number One

I've tried starting blogs many many times for various reasons, all attempts ending up to be futile. I'm a musician, and a damn good one, but as many of us know in Los Angeles, that usually doesn't pay the bills. So I went to college, got a degree in Public Relations/Journalism, and found myself currently working a pretty shit job utilizing none of the things I went to school for, even though I was hired to use those skills.

I spend my day booking flights, getting the mail, finding my boss better car insurance, and booking his significantly younger Russian mail-order bride her driver's education lessons. In addition to this, my boss is pretty angry at life, it seems, and is always mad about something to the point where "fuck" is registering pretty high on his favorite words to say.

Safe to say, its a pretty miserable eight-hour ordeal.

But it's got decent pay, and in this economy I can't complain. Well, that's not really true. I can complain. And do. A LOT. So to take out my frustration, I want to start writing again. Might as well put that university experience to some good use.

I have no idea what I will write about, but I can assure you there will not be any cohesive theme. Just my opinions that no one will really care about regarding art, culture, traffic, food, my upcoming tip to Spain with my GF, and very likely my asshole boss.

But hey, that's what blogs are all about, right?