I Can't Get Behind A Fat Ass!

Well, I did that thing again where I go into work and I'm wicked early. This time it was only 2.5 hours. I walked in at 7:30 and I wasn't due until 10. UGH! No matter. I'm calling it "forced productivity". Except now I'm blogging instead of packing up my stuff at Byron's. Whatever. I missed my blog.

I'm getting the apartment filled up with my stuff, slowly. I had Gramma over yesterday morning; she helped clean because my room is GROSS. The worst part is the carpet, which is covering a GORGEOUS hardwood floor. I wonder if, eventually, I can rip it up. (I probably never will bother.) Anyway, Gram and I are scrubbing and this INSANELY HOT Brazilian chick walks in slo-mo through the living room, pauses, looks at me and says, "hello." Very cool, very sexy (this is the part where I'm trying to get all my guy friends to help me move...) My roommate follows her out of the bedroom and they make breakfast. Gram was terrified to go into the kitchen, but I told her it was fine. I didn't anticipate having to deal with other people's sex lives; not that I actually have to DEAL with it, but you know what I mean. Be AWARE of it. I lived with Grandma, who hasn't gotten laid in years, and then I lived with Byron, who... well, you know how that story goes.

I'm on floor two of a three family house, so I have really close neighbors I haven't met yet. There is an old dude upstairs who is wrinkled and smokes a lot. He's Spanish, so I hear them talking, and hope it's not about me. When I was moving my stuff, he watched me the entire time. CREEPY! I saw part of another one of my neighbors, a large part. I pulled into the driveway and there was a HUGE FAT ASS. She was wearing itty bitty Victoria Secret sleeping shorts, the kind that are sexy on Tyra Banks and the 19 year olds that are SUPPOSED buy them, but GROSS on 250 pound women that are bending over with NOTHING ELSE UNDER THEM. Out loud I said "Oh my God!" and almost drove into the side of the house.

I found a roach in the bathtub at 10:30 last night. My roommate was like "Oh, I have a staple gun I'll get him with!" I think he was kidding. I was going to take a picture, but he was too fast (the roach, not Keith trying to off the cockroach with an industrial stapler, although THAT would have made a good shot, too.) Eventually he squished it with a tissue, and so it has been established: I do not squash the bugs in the house, and I like that just fine.