"I grew up in Belvidere, a small town in Warren County..."

Just another excruciating evening spent in my own living room -- or is it the set of THE MATCH GAME? -- listening to yet another one-sided Dipshit phonecall. I can't make this shit up. I can't exaggerate. Nothing I write can even BEGIN to convey how agitating it is to be in his presence. It's awful. Horrible. I fucking hate him more than I can express. If there were some reality show awarding Most Annoying Human Being, I don't see how he could lose. EVERY move he makes is ulcer-inducing. He does NOTHING right.

Almost 2 months later, he's STILL using my ketchup, i'll have you know. I guess he mistook my saying he can borrow some if he ran out and was in a pinch for "sure, why don't you just ingest the entire bottle and leave ME with nothing." Wouldn't a NORMAL grown-up make a mental note (or, in his case, one of his many ACTUAL notes) to buy some ketchup? When I got up today, I was quickly told "the internet was out." Now this has happened a handful of times before...and EVERY time i've fixed the problem by jiggling his internet phone wire. Do you think HE thought to do such a thing? No. God forbid he use whatever passes for his brain to test the wiring -- you know, what any non-retarded person above the age of seven would do. SOMEhow, the problem corrected itself after about an hour...I'd BEEN waiting for him to go to the bathroom, at which point i'd run into his room and fix it; naturally, he didn't move for about 2 hours. A fucking nightmare. I seriously can't deal with him anymore. Any patience is gone. I've taken to talking out loud or heavily sighing...perhaps secretly hoping he hears me and registers my fury. Allowing him to live here is officially one of the worst mistakes of my FUCKING LIFE. Unless he's sleeping, his presence in SOME way grates beyond belief.

Back to his current phonecall with yet another internet whore he's "meeting" for the first time...via phonecall. I have nothing against internet dating, let me say that. I DON'T have patience for the phonecall bullshit. Fucking write an email, IM, or meet in PERSON. Instead, along with being regaled with his misty-eyed portrait of his hometown, i've listened to him describe his daily bus ride into the city and note how, after 7 years, he STILL isn't tired of Hoboken. Among MANY other achingly dull tidbits. "Hey Amy, good stuff," he just said. Guess her name's Amy. They'll "meet up for a drink" on Thursday. Jesus fucking Christ, how does ANY woman not order a bottle of wine simply to smash over her fucking head while enduring a date with HIM?! How does he even DATE?! OH, MY GOD, I CAN'T HANDLE ANY OF THIS!! *The call just ended...it lasted about 35 minutes. And this is every day of my life. ENDLESS phonecalls...with dumb broads, dumb friends, or his dumb work. SHOOT. ME. NOW. **OHMYFUCKINGGOD, he is NOW ON THE PHONE AGAIN..."Hey, Lauren, how are you?" Can you say UNSPEAKABLY NEEDY, WHINY, FUCKING LITTLE PUSSYBOY? I can. Wait, I'm thinking of a new tactic...perhaps I should start endlessly coughing, hacking, clearing my throat, blowing my nose, burbing? Things like this? Surely this would annoy him to move into another room? I'll end with good news...at LEAST i've just learned from his blabber that he'll be away both Friday AND Saturday nights!!! OK, i'm done with him...for now. *PS, officially, over the past 2 weeks or so, I feel ZERO guilt dissing him. He deserves every syllable of my rage. Along with a piece of plywood to the face.