My roommate's job hunt

Dear blog,

My new roommate is all settled in and things are going just great. He has been hard at work trying to find a job. I'm thrilled to report that he was hired after being on the hunt for just one week! I asked him to share some of the secrets to his success with my blog.

So, how does one prepare their workspace for a frenzied online job search?

First off, forget about the coat rack. It's merely a distraction. In order to maximize your efficiency, you should just peel any coats or sweatshirts you may be wearing and let them fall to the floor as you approach your seat.

It's important to keep a cardboard box nearby. It will come in handy in the event that you need to quickly "clean off" your desk to make room for another plastic cup. Simply toss the clutter in the box, effectively filing it away.

Hand lotion is absolutely vital. Let's face it, the internet is a dry place... especially the websites of prospective employers. You're going to need to moisturize at least one of your hands while viewing these websites. When you abruptly become disgusted with the job you're applying for and no longer need moisturizing, grab a tissue and towel off.

Tissues, as it turns out, are a hot commodity when on the job hunt. Should the need arise to blow your nose, go right ahead. Whatever you do, you had better not throw away the tissue after a single use! Don't you care about the environment!? There are 12 nose blows left in that sucker!

When you're finished drinking from a cup or can, don't give up on it just yet. It's uncommon, but sometimes these vessels have been known to refill themselves. Besides, you're unemployed. Can you really afford to risk it?

Filling out applications online can be cumbersome. You're going to need a snack in order to stay sharp. A steady stream of microwaved hot dogs is a great choice. Not only does the smell repel anyone from coming close enough to bug you, but the juices will coat the keyboard and help you type faster (and more accurately!)


If the hot dogs don't do the trick and you still have people buzzing around while you work, try this. Put on a pair of headphones and crank them all the way up. Make a playlist of inspirational music by Nickleback or Creed and sing along. Your roommates' protests will fall on deaf ears as they are driven from the room, and the asinine lyrics will inspire you to lie on your resume!


A big thank you goes out to my roommate. I'm happy that he gave me this opportunity to share his wisdom with the world. I hope that these tips help many readers to get their dream jobs!

Thank you.

A new roommate, a winter adventure, and a Georgia mishap

Dear blog,

It's been a while since I have written. We have been playing musical roommates around here and I've also been out of town for the holidays. Our new roommate has now moved in and I'm sure that there will be plenty to report in the coming months as his less favorable habits rear their ugly heads.

In the meantime, I'll share this little story with you.

My holiday vacation was a trip to Illinois to visit my kid brothers. The plan was that I fly in and then drive back with my brother, who will then move in to be our new roommate. It was a bit on the chilly side with 13+ inches of snow and temperatures ranging between 8 and 22 degrees for most of the 9 days I was there. After getting my fill of winter fun, the roommate elect and I loaded up his truck and headed home to the sunshine state.


A great deal of our time was spent preparing his truck for the trip. The temperatures were expected to drop further right as we were leaving, and who knows how much new snow there was to be? The truck was sitting on 4 crappy tires. The camper shell needed to be installed. There was no jack, no spare, no tire iron, no head liner, no carpet and no heat. The truck needed an oil change, an air filter, and the bed was full of snow.

We started out with a trip to the snowy junk yard. We scrounged around for hours and ended up purchasing a wheel, a jack, a tire iron, and a headliner for the truck. Unfortunately, they didn't have the tire we needed, nor any usable carpet. Upon our return to the house, my brother went to work ripping the carpet out of the floor of the truck in the driveway that had apparently been abandoned by the owner of the house they were renting. (shhh... don't tell anybody)


We worked frantically, shoveling snow from the truck bed, digging the camper shell out of the garage, then installing the headliner and carpet. The truck was really starting to come together by the end of the next day. The next step was to pick up an oil filter, air filter and thermostat. Our hope was that installing the thermostat would result in the heater working again.

My brother took the truck up to his friend that worked at a Hyundai dealership so they could perform the repairs and maintenance. After a couple of hours he called me. "We need to replace the universal joint." "Really? How bad is it?" "He says that if we make it to Florida, to call him and let him know, because it will have been a miracle."

The good news was that the replacing of the thermostat did in fact result in working heat!! That should come in handy. The bad news is that it's new year's eve and we are supposed to begin our 1,200 mile trip to Florida the next day at 5pm.

For those of you who don't know, here's the lowdown on u-joints.
A universal joint, U joint, Cardan joint, Hardy-Spicer joint, or Hooke's joint is a joint in a rigid rod that allows the rod to 'bend' in any direction, and is commonly used in shafts that transmit rotary motion. It consists of a pair of hinges located close together, oriented at 90° to each other, connected by a cross shaft.

In this case, there are 2 u-joints connecting the transmission to the rear differential via the drive shaft. What that means is if the u-joint fails, the truck is now more of a nifty fort than a vehicle.

It was a risk we simply could not take. For all we knew, we would make it 50 miles before this damn truck became our icy grave. We purchased the part and my brother spend the morning of new year's day installing it at his buddy's house. Fortunately this buddy had a pretty nice garage. They had to perform a few miracles just to get the old one off the truck.

After repairing the truck, my brother returned home. We had about 4 hours before it was time to embark. My brother thought this would be the perfect time to BEGIN PACKING!!!

We frantically packed up his belongings and loaded them into the newly renovated vehicle. It was freaking COLD!!! It was getting colder with every passing every minute. As the temperature approached 8 degrees (Fahrenheit!) we finally left at a little after 6pm... merely an hour late. Not too shabby!

My brother was the driver (drive nazi), I was the chef and accountant. I think we made a good team. To be safe, he kept the truck to a top speed of around 60mph. Everything was going well until we reached Georgia. On a side note... any time I have an incident while driving home to Florida, it always occurs in Georgia... I don't understand why.

At any rate, we were in Georgia with about 4-5 hours to go, when we heard a loud pop followed by the violent shaking indicative of a blowout. My brother expertly pulled the truck over to the side of the road. This was fortunately part of the Georgia highway that was equipped with a shoulder. Otherwise it would have been much worse!


We get out to survey the damage. The tire is torn to ribbons. The truck is off the shoulder by a little bit but we start jacking it up anyway. The jack is at an angle and is pushing the truck up and out at the same time. This is causing the entire rear axle to slant, resulting in the popped tire pretty much staying on the ground.

A concerned (about money) Georgia resident stopped to help. He saw the slanted axle and assumed that it had snapped. He assured us that he had a shop just down the road and could take a look at it. We were convinced that repositioning the truck and jack was all that was needed. He was nice enough to let us use his hydraulic jack, which took a fraction of the time to get the truck off the ground.

I took a moment to share a few details with him about how we pooled our resources to get the truck on the road. He said something to the effect of "Oh, so you guys don't have very much money do you?" "Nope, sure don't buddy!" Suddenly he was more interested in getting out of the cold than helping us with our "busted axle." The spare was installed and we were on our way. Surprisingly, the axle was just fine!

We were both deliriously tired and missed our exit to get on I-10. We had to take a detour through Lake City, which added even more time to our laborious venture.

Finally, 22 hours, 12 degree temperatures, 8 Coke Zeros, 5 old tires, 3 mobile deli sandwiches, 2.5 tanks of gas, and a blowout later, we were HOME!

I'm rather proud of our chariot. The 92 pickup did a bang up job!

Thank you.

Psychotic cat has some sort of bowel condition

Dear blog,

There is something horribly wrong with my roommate's cat's digestive tract. I don't know what kind of sewer this cat has been eating out of, but there is no way this odor is normal.

Our house has what I believe is called an open floor plan. This means that the kitchen, dining room, and 2 living rooms are all different parts of a single open space. It is no exaggeration when I tell you that one nasty little cat log is enough to cause involuntary retching to any occupants of all 4 of these rooms.

To make matters worse, what do you suppose this disturbed feline does after delivering the goods? Does he obsessively bury his droppings like a normal cat? Hell no! He does his sinful business and then scrambles away from the payload like it's going to try and stuff itself back in!



One day, I will bury him.

Thank you.

Renege: To fail to carry out a promise or commitment.

Dear blog,

My roommate got angry about a recent grocery bill and decided to "succeed from the union" so to speak. Meaning that he's no longer involved when it comes to sharing groceries. Not a problem... he doesn't pay for them, he doesn't eat them. Fine.

I like to think I'm a pretty decent cook. Sometimes I actually amaze myself. This was the case when I made some stew out of leftover Thanksgiving turkey. Initially I was liberal about sharing my delicious stew. As my reserves dwindled, I grew a bit more stingy about it.

Yesterday, this particular roommate asked me if he could have some more of my stew. (I already offered him some on the day I made it, so he knew how delicious it was.) I told him that I was running low, but would let him have some of he washed the dishes. He agreed and began fumbling around with the mountain of dishes in the sink.

A few moments later, as I was heading out to run some errands, I noticed that he was no longer tending to the dishes and was sitting in the living room enjoying my stew.

When I returned later that evening, this was the scene in the kitchen...

Now, I wouldn't go so far as to say that my roommate is a liar and a thief... but hmmm...
He claimed that he was going to wash the dishes in exchange for the food that he neither paid for, nor helped prepare.
He then enjoyed the food and left the sink full of nasty dirty dishes.
So what's that make him? Oh... that would be A LIAR AND A THIEF!!!

Thank you.

[UPDATE]
The roommate in question claimed that he had to go to work, which was the reason why he couldn't do the dishes as promised. OK, that's understandable. I interpreted this claim as a promise to fulfill his obligation the next day. However, I grossly underestimated just how dastardly this thieving liar actually is. He has once again left for work and the disgusting pile of dirty dishes remains untouched.

The leaning tower of rotting pizza

Dear blog,

Upon returning home from a weekend of travel, I made a rather interesting discovery. Apparently my roommates did a little redecorating during my hiatus. I feel like a bit of a hypocrite now, because I can recall a few times in recent history when I suggested that they might not be contributing quite enough effort for the better good of the household.

I can't say that I would have done things exactly the same way... what do you think?


Yes I admit, the soda and beer boxes provide a sort of homey charm. Sure, I can imagine that making a Jenga-like game of adding a can to the overflowing recycling bin would provide a unique challenge.

The thing I can't get on board with is the leaning, plastic, drawstring tower of garbage.

Who knows what kind of rancid, biological in nature, and most likely very stinky liquids that bag must contain!? This bag appears that it could topple and expel its contents all over the floor at any given moment!

It truly amazes me that my roommates don't just shit in the corner like ferrets.

Thank you.

The Cat from The Exorcist

Dear Blog,

There's a serious problem in this household. This problem is caused by a certain overweight feline. The cat in question's given name is "puddin'." However, due to his physique, I feel that the trailing g simply cannot be left out. Take a look for yourself...

The cat that ate the cat that ate the cat that I like to call Pudding.

Apparently this cat's insatiable hunger can never be satisfied. My guess is that when the cat's already basketball-sized stomach fills up, he doesn't take this as a cue to stop eating. The result, as you may have guessed, is an epidemic of regular regurgitation.


At any given moment, while minding your own business in our house, you may be treated to the violent retching sounds emitted by this abomination.

Pudding doesn't discriminate when it comes to where he does his grazing. He mosies from the dog's food bowl, to the other cat's food bowl, to the kitchen floor and then repeats throughout the day. Pudding is rather open-minded when it comes to his vomit receptacles too. He's been known to lay his burden down on the couch, on my roommate's bed, on the carpet, on the tile, on the rug - you name it!

Since there's no stifling the intermittent bile storms that Pudding unleashes, the best thing you can do is try and get him to the tile before he hurls. When you hear the first rising signs of Pudding's pre-rumination ritual, there is absolutely no time to waste! You have literally 3-7 seconds before the payload is delivered.

I try and try to coax him from the carpet and on to the tile before it's too late. I am seldom successful. I can't tell you how many times I've witnessed this manner of horror while in the middle of eating my breakfast. There is nothing more wretched, disgusting, and unappetizing than a the violent throes of an overweight feline purging his engorged abdomen.

Thank you.

Out for a midnight swim

Dear Blog,
I know that you're probably sick and tired of hearing about the front porch. I wouldn't be reporting on the sad state of affairs unless they had indeed grown sadder. Let's have a look!

Oh my! It appears that a rather dirty, shirtless and
shoeless individual has spontaneously combusted!

What manner of scum are these mysterious pants covered in?

Before I show you the final piece of evidence I have gathered, let me tell you what transpired.

I was awoken by somebody mulling about in the middle of the night. Being blind as a bat, I didn't see what the hour was. I got up to get a glass of water and saw that the noise was indeed caused by my roommate, who was brushing their teeth or something with the bathroom door open.

The next morning, my other roommate was leaving for work and said "you should take a look at the front porch." When I peered out the door, I first noticed the mysterious trousers. Upon closer inspection, I was horrified to find this...

Your eyes do not deceive you.
Next to the carefully draped and completely swamp-covered jeans,
there are men's boxer briefs and a pair of socks.

I'm no lawyer, but I don't think that just because it's 4 in the morning, the neighborhood becomes a clothing optional type situation.

When confronted about the events leading up to the alleged streaking, the roommate was paraphrased saying this:

"I was hanging out with this girl I met at Eclipse and she wanted to go roll down a hill. We left the club and I found out that she meant it literally. We were rolling down this grass hill, I went too far and landed in a retention pond. I cut my knee and can barely walk."

The wound on my roommate's knee was very gnarly to say the least. The thought of a fresh wound soaking in the questionable contents of a retention pond was almost nauseating.

The roommate in question fell unspeakably ill a day or two later and was quoted saying: "*Hack! Hack! Cough!* Ugh! Which one of you fuckers got me sick?"

Sure, buddy. It was probably one of us, not the parasites, microbes, amoebas, and algae that undoubtedly poured into your every orifice.

At any rate, this blog is not called the stupidity of roommates. So, here's where the audacity comes in. The swamp covered clothes were found later that day in the bathroom draped over the side of the tub. Sounds perfectly sanitary to me! The next day, when said roommate fell puzzlingly ill, he or she absconded to the abode of their parents to be nursed back to health.

For me, this was great news. Nothing against this person, but if they are sick and want to contaminate somebody else's house, more power to 'em!

As I was adding chemicals to the hot tub in preparation for a visit from my lady friend later that evening, I realized that the swamp ensemble had once again relocated. The nasty draws and socks were now draped over the table next to the hot tub, where they'd undoubtedly stay until this roommate was off their death bed!

I had to go to my happy place, as I hurriedly tossed the offending garments into the garbage can.
Thank you.