mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "For it's One, Two, Three strikes you're out..." I'm at school right now. I have all of my books all spread out, every time my chair moves it makes a real loud screeeech in the silent computer lab, and I am typing at the handicapped desk. A famous song is in my head... I'm an ass hole e-ole e-o-e-ole. Ah, what a life. But, it is 8:30, it is storming out, I have stale gum in my mouth, and I have to pee as badly as Michael Jackson wants his career back. That's pretty damned bad. "What does K-Mart and Michael Jackson have in common? Little boys' pants are half-off." Remember how I said I put my roommate vacancy in the paper yesterday? Well, people must not read their Wednesday papers on Wednesday. Either that, or people who need to find a place to live dig through garbages to get yesterday's classifieds. This isn't too encouraging to me. I got a few hits today. My first was a girl. Great, I thought. She asked where it was, and I told her. "Oh, I was looking for a place closer to campus." Well, sorry, babes. You gonna have ta pay about twice if you wanna live close-ah ta campus. (By the way... The University of Missouri is located in this here town if you don't know.) So, that little bit of excitement was over in less than a minute. Man, if I had a nickel for every time I could write that! The second guy was an Indian-sounding fellow. I have nothing against Indian folk. In fact, one of the kewlest guys I have ever met is Indian. He loves cooking with butter, so he's a-ok with me. But he doesn't sound Indian. He sounds like a good ole' red blooded American who doesn't cook with TONS of curry. I once lived in an apartment *AFTER* people who cooked with curry. Man oh man does stale curry stink. Peeee-youuu. Anyway, this guy may or may not come by tomorrow for a look. "Alex, I'll take may not for $1,000." The third dude that called, I wanted to pull a Tony Soprano on. First off, he called at like 7am in the morning... over and over again. Dude wouldn't leave a message. Usually, if it's 7am in the morning, I let the answering machine answer. Pretty sensible thing to do. At 11:30, after checking my email and getting dressed, I went for a bit of lunch with a few friends. I came back, checked my machine, and heard this: Hi. I was calling about your ad for a roommate in the paper. I've been calling all morning. Listen, if you really want a roommate, why won't you answer your phone? I've been calling all morning. Then I call and it's busy. Now, no one's home again. You should tell the person who's been on the phone to stay off. If you already have a roommate, you should get the ad taken out of the paper as to not waste peoples' time. Also-- After that, I just hit ye old "Delete" button. This guy sounded to be in his 30s. So, yeaaaaahhh... This sounded like a GOOOD idea for a roommate. I would have made sweet, sweet love with Jackass before even inviting this guy over for a gander at my comfortable, QUIET home. I told you I was gonna get some wackos. I knew it, knew it, knew it. I want someone who is going to see my apartment as their own home. Not just some place to stay. They need to make it part of their pride. And they certainly can't yell at me. See, I have lived in that apartment for 25 months. You tend to get set in your ways after 25 months. And if someone wants to come in and think that they can just automatically take the place over, I have a nice baseball bat that has their knee's name written all over it. Assuming that knees have names and all... y'know. Dem's the rules. Well, my teeth are floatin', so I guess I should head off to the bathroom. Someone email, for chirssakes. I got about 80 "Cheap Home Loans" spams today. I'm thinking of calling and getting my email address changed. I need some email telling me how sexy I am. It's ok if you lie. 8:30 p.m. - Thursday, Aug. 30, 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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