Dear Person I'm Forced to Live With:

If, at 2:11 A.M., your music is still audible all the way down the hall in the lounge,

IT'S TOO FUCKING LOUD. You fucking sanitary napkin, I hate you.

If I heard her correctly when she was blabbing on the phone this morning, she's transferring to another(yes, her third move in one year, which tells you that maybe the people she's living with aren't the problem)dorm in spring. An ordinary person may be offended by this, I'm feeling like my prayers have been answered. Besides, if she's stupid(that's an understatement, I just can't think of something worse at the moment) enough to find living with me "unbearable" because I don't want to spend every waking moment with her(which is really the only reason I could think of that she'd be moving), well she can just go fuck herself, that psycho bitch.

I wanna go on the record here saying I would sell my soul to the Devil for a different life. Seriously. So, Satan, if you're reading this:let's talk.

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