Editor's note: Swpski is a friend of the blog and occasional commenter who moved from Chicago to the great state of California last year. Here is his story:
I was going to write a witty response to Mazerino's post on dogs. I side with the man after being hit in the secret no-no spot by the same dog in question. I say if you are going to have something that you have to constantly take care of and clean up poop after, make it a kid. That way in forty years when I am allowed to retire, at least someone will be funding my Social Security benefits... I instead have decided to write about a human douchebag of the week--one of my roommates who Mazerino and Dr. BJ know all to well as the human box (he's as wide as he is tall).
Last night I came back from the gym to find his fat ass on the couch watching "Seinfeld" and burning incense. If I want to smell like a hippie I will go hang out in Golden Gate Park (happens to be his favorite place to go to on a Sunday).
Sunday morning I drove home two hours from camping, and his lazy ass asks me for a ride to work. He has to be there by noon, and he is going to be late if I don't give him a ride. If you can't make it to a job by noon on a Sunday you are a dumbass. He also told me I should watch "Walk Hard, the Dewey Cox story" because it was hilarious. I told him I couldn't take him to work because I was going mountain biking. I sat at home and watched the Dewey Cox movie. It was horrible.
Based on the aforementioned misdeeds and a laundry list of other impolite infractions, the human box is our reigning "Douche of the Week or Time It Takes to Name a New Douche."
--Swpski
5 comments:
I have even more reasons for his douchieness. If you are running low on material I can just give a daily story like when he threw up in the bathtub @ 2 am on a Tuesday. Or when he called my other roommate three times yesterday while other guy was at work. The pressing issue; he wanted to bum some pot.
Mazerino and I also had a rewarding experience with H to the box. We had flown in on a 6AM (4AM Ca time) ATA (RIP) flight. For those of you who have ever been on a bus in central america (http://www.pbase.com/garoessler/chickbus), this is what it was like flying ATA.
Fast forward to sometime after midnight during that same day after a tour of the bay area, perhaps the most intense ultimate frisbee game in history, and a couple of drinks, 'Rino and I were, needless to say, very tired. H-Bx was watching the end of Dazed and confused and had just gotten some unfortunate girl to give him a foot massage. The movie ends and the box wants to watch another. Swpski, much to the relief of everyone, especially the girl, says that it might be nice to let us sleep. The girl runs out of the house like it is on fire, we settle in for bed and the box lies down on the couch (the MazBed). Mazerino asks politely if he can lie there, box moves to the love seat and continues to watch TV. 'Rino tells him we need to sleep, he responds with "are you guys really that tired?"
Fast forward another 6 hours, I am awoken to a loud voice on his "hot girl line" at my feet asking for a ride to church, then to the loud squeeking of an ironing board, then to another phone call where he has his ride wait in front of the house for him to iron his shirt. In the span of 20 minutes he inconvenienced 5 people (me, Mazerino, and the 3 people in the car). What a chode.
This may be my favorite post of all time. It's 3 posts in one so far.
Dr. BJ left out that even after we said we wanted to go to bed and he agreed, he stood there for 5 minutes asking us where we were from, moved to the kitchen and rattled some pots and pans, then stomped up stairs like an elephant. To be fair, I don't know if he's capable of walking lightly. And he likes Counting Crows.
BTW, I'm disappointed in Ford Taurus lady's abbreviated reign, but this was as story that needed to be told.
I am going to give him a one month "get your shit together or get out warning," at the end of the week. The other roommate are in agreement.
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