Dipshit's LAST excruciating topical joke?!?

There's a lot of LASTS going on. It's all coming so quickly now! First of all, I realized this is the LAST weekend he'll be "going away" to his fiancee's, a habit that I've enjoyed for almost a year and nine months, actually starting with the summer '08 beach house. As we speak is the LAST time I'll excitedly listen to him go to bed, knowing I won't see him until Monday. When he leaves NEXT week (on Friday), it'll be FOREVER. F-O-R-E-V-E-R!!!!!

Anyway, tonight I endured the return of an old Dipshit favorite...the observing of a news story that he chuckled over in his room, only to wander out into the living room to offer his "witty take" on the issue. And by witty, I mean NOT. At ALL. Tonight's installment involved some un-screened guy getting within a few rows of Joe Biden at the Olympics. I was hoping my headphones would ward him off, but no luck...probably because I DID have the TV volume on seconds beforehand, before putting it on mute. So he asked if I just saw that story; I lied and said no. He briefly recapped...then muttered something about Biden probably being in the wrong seats anyway. HAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! OHMYFUCKINGGOD, THE HILARITY!!!!!!!! WOW!!!!!!! Um, yeah. Extremely painful. I barely bothered to even pretend to politely laugh; to me, it was clearly obvious I had no interest in what he was saying. Maybe he got the hint, as he quickly slinked away. UGH. I can only pray next week doesn't hold some epic series finale of awkwardness.

1:14am...the last time I'll endure a hockey-playing Dipshit?

A Tuesday night at 1:14am in the middle of February...and Dipshit's yet to return home from playing hockey 30-40 minutes away. This has been my Tuesday night for YEARS. Winter, spring, summer, fall. It's been particularly wonderful when I have to get up for work at like 5am. But even on nights -- like tonight -- when i'm not really affected by it, it's still irritating.

Tonight could be it, though. It's either tonight or next Tuesday, being he's out of my LIFE by the end of next week, so perhaps I should be treating this with a perverse tinge of teary-eyed nostalgia? WAIT...he's coming up the stairs! 1:20am. Here we go...the post-hockey hustling around the house, internet play, showering at 2am. He's in his room now...light turns on...unzipping his coat...standing in front of me hanging it up...still standing there...cmon, cmon...OK, back in his room...to the bathroom to piss (but not shower yet, because why get showering out of the way at 1:25am?)....

1:26am: back from the pisser...turns on his TV...bag of chips rustling, teeth chomping down on chips....

1:40am: one of his trademark quick laugh snorts at something on the TV....

1:42am: his trademark inexplicable Noisy Walk To The Hallway To Heavily Drop Hockey Equipment Twenty Minutes After He Came Home. *My point being, I don't understand why he doesn't do this RIGHT away. Oh, yeah, and he CLEARLY has no concept of others in the house perhaps being asleep now as he DROPS things to the floor and slams doors.

1:56am: on cue, finally has made his way to the shower....

2:10am: out of shower...fidgeting...aaaaaaaand....

2:11am: LIGHT'S OUT! *Complete with heavy sigh. *Though the TV's still on; that'll go off in about 10, 15 minutes.

OK, i'm weary of this...time to hit "publish post"....

Motherfucking Dipshit is gonna irritate me to the bitter end...

It's 1:16am, and the past 4 hours or so has largely been a huge motherfucking waste of my precious time. I've eaten, I've pissed, I've lifted some barbells, i've fiddled on Facebook and other bullshit. But what I REALLY need to be doing is seeking employment...FOCUSING INTENTLY on big picture, major life things. Alas, I can't...because, OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE, Dipshit came home at 9pm tonight and has been irritating me ever since. WHY is he still up? WHY is he even HERE?

He gave me his utility money last night. He emptied his trash can. He had NOTHING left in the fridge. He took his computer and TWO bags this morning to work. All this SEEMED to signal the 3rd Wednesday in a row that he'd leave straight for Philly from work to stay with his fiancee until Monday. Yet there he came up the stairs at 9pm, COMPLETELY shattering my MOTHERFUCKING ZEN.

First, he spent about an hour bringing bag after bag after bag to the curb. I've been waiting 4 hours now to inspect his room while he's in the shower to see WHAT he was hurling into trash bags, because, i'll tell ya, he doesn't HAVE much to begin with. And how do you throw SO much stuff out SO fast? Lastly, in typical Dipshit fashion, he was incapable of bringing all the bags down at once or even two trips. Up and down the stairs, making tons of noise, completely oblivious to closing a door gently or lifting his feet. Up and down, UP AND DOWN. Oh, and just to put his usual irritating icing on the cake, he had to have on his usual STATICY AM FUCKING RADIO for at least an hour. That alone made me wanna bang my head hard into the wall.

Once all that bullshit stopped...SILENCE...for at least 90 minutes. Great, right? No...not at all. Dipshit SO grates on my nerves that even his being silent while conscious pisses me off. "WHAT the FUCK is he doing on his computer?!?!!" is all I could think of, my annoyance growing with every 10-minute interval. I JUST wanted him to go to fucking bed. And he BEST be gone for good for the weekend come tomorrow. I LOATHE HIM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH. I can't believe he's gonna out of my life by month's end...it's surreal. But until then, it's like this excruciating final burst of aggravation.

I just will NEVER, EVER be able to convey the extent of his annoyance. No one will EVER get it. All I know tonight is that his presence TOTALLY threw off my productivity. Eh, at least I worked out a little. My head is tense right now, like it's gonna explode. He can't be out of my life soon enough. I may start sobbing the day he leaves. And I fucking Lysoled every thing we mutually touch today, thinking he was gone; now i'm gonna have to fucking do it again tomorrow. Yes, that's right...I don't trust his hands to be germ-free; not remotely. I totally see him not washing his hands and touching everything and bringing the swine flu into my house.

1:42am...he's finally done his shower...STILL putzing around. He is NEVER up this late, save for his insipid "11pm hockey game" Tuesdays. UGH. I'm only still writing this blog because literally I can't focus on anything else until he's asleep in bed. OK...fiddling with clock radio...think the end of my hell is near. Jesus, grant me the serenity not to smash his head with a blunt object after making it THIS far....