Power Bill Lower? Sure is!

So, I recently received my power bill which would reflect a full month of Mike-free living. Which means that the air conditioning, coffee maker and xbox games were not run all day long. Our bill went from $220 to $113. A savings of $107. Living without that dipshit keeps getting better and better!

Still Free...

We still have the table and as of yet have not heard from Mike. Maybe he's in New York, maybe he's in a New York jail. Who knows...

Finally, Sweet Friggin Freedom

Mike finally got around to getting his part of the power bill to me. For some reason, he had to get a money order. What's wrong, dude? No checking account anymore? Anyway, who cares... I got my money and that's what counts! He still has a table at my house and I will be OH SO attentive to him when he needs it back. As far as I'm concerned, I'm free of this jackass... he's on MY schedule now. Hope he doesn't need his table any time soon...

So, the power bill was due on the 23rd so Mike is 3 days late. Are you surprised? Neither am I. I checked the answering machine and on it was a message from him saying that he needed us to call him so he could pay his portion of the bill. Of course, this is after he called a few days prior saying he would come by and drop it off in the mailbox or slip it under the door. It's no surprise where we live but according to him, he has no transportation. Hey dipsh*t! Ever heard of a stamp? I mean, it's already late anyway! F'ing jerk...

More Ex-Roommate Crap

I checked my voicemail yesterday and LO AND BEHOLD! A message from Mike! It was in the usual meandering manner, first saying "sorry about the mail" and then later saying that he wasn't sorry because it wasn't his fault. He claimed that he specifically told them that he only wanted his mail held. You see, he's one of the few on the planet that would screw up something like this by not filling out a simple "change of address". That's what most people would do, but not Mike. I'm going to record the voicemail and post it so you can hear the type of crap I have to deal with. He also said that he would leave a check for the power bill, due today. Will it be on time? I doubt it. Will keep you posted...

He's GONE! WOO HOO!!! Finally! I'll scan the note he left so you can see it. Maybe someone can do some handwriting analysis on it!
It basically said that he would keep the same number and that he was leaving the kitchen table for a month. Apparently, he made arrangements with my brother. Just as an aside, the pile of cleaning supplies and crap in the pantry that he left there months ago are still there, unkempt and unclean.
I wish I had something more entertaining for you, but to be honest, I'm spent. This whole thing has been exhausting and I'm just glad it's over. Maybe I'll come up with something fun later on...
Does anyone know a good priest? I think I want to have the room cleansed.

The dumbass roommate is still haunting me! I haven't received mail for several days so I called the post office and they informed me that a person by the name of "Mike" asked that the mail be put on hold. So the reason I haven't gotten mail is because Mike is a *&%$#*&@ &^%$@#&^!!!!!!!!

Now it's YOUR turn! Send me your worst roommate story and we'll see if you can best my nightmare! The best ones will get posted (anonymously, if you wish). Greg, you're disqualified. I told you I was sorry for wanting to eat all of your Hamburger Helper and Tombstone pizzas! (Or maybe I didn't.) Also, if you've met Mike and would like to add your impressions about the experience, drop me a line! Send them to: frogbrother@hotmail.com.

Click on torn piece of scrap cardboard to enlarge!

This is what was left behind by Mike. Unless you include bad memories and a set of damaged mini blinds. My only question is that if he used cardboard for the note, what is he going to sleep in tonight? Ha ha ha ha ha! I'm half joking, by the way. I overheard him calling someone as he was moving asking questions like "How many roommates do you have?" and his girlfriend had a paper in her hand with addresses and dollar amounts on it. Sounds like he waited until the last second to find a place to stay. Doh!
Translation: "Hello, I spoke with *name withheld* about the table in the kitchen. He knows I'll be back in a month to pick it up. Same # for last bill. Good Day. Love 'Mike'. My key is in the Conch Shell outside."
His last day was so typical of his time here. He asked for extra time because he always thinks that others are reponsible to help him with his problems. As soon as my brother said yes, he went to sleep! And when it was all said and done, he was 17 hours late leaving. Fortunately (and surprisingly) the room was left clean. I saw his girlfriend sweeping in there which I'm sure would not have been done otherwise.
Last night was wonderful. I kept going into the now empty room with a big smile on my face. It's great not to have to worry what is broken, eaten or coated in coffee when I get home.

That past weekend was spent far away from the homestead, which was good because it kept my mind off of the whole roommate thing. He now has six days to get all of his belongings out of the house. Ohhhh... I'm getting excited! I haven't been to the house in a few days but I suspect he hasn't done a thing to prepare for the move. And I'm not obliged to extend his stay so anything that isn't out of the house by Monday will get a polite shove out of the door.

Nothing new to report... all's quiet on the southeastern front. He hasn't made a dent in his packing as far as I can tell. He might be completely oblivious to the date. I guess when there's no clear distinction between "weekday" and "weekend", every day is a day off. I'm nervous about his last days at the house. Anyone capable of pouring coffee on someone's phone is capable of doing other obnoxious things, don't you think?

Ha ha ha ha ha ha! I'm giddy! Ha ha ha ha! I've seen faint signs of the end. He's actually started cleaning the porch! Just in time... the cigarette butts are all swept up into one spot. Nothing thrown away, though. He's probably reminiscing about all those delicious cigarettes.

Does This Sound Like Him?

This is from the "Addictions & Life Page", a web site that gives free information about drug abuse.
Signs and Symptoms
Behavior characteristics associated with substance abuse

---

• Abrupt changes in work or school attendance, quality of work, work output, grades, discipline.
• Unusual flare-ups or outbreaks of temper.
• Withdrawal from responsibility.
• General changes in overall attitude.
• Deterioration of physical appearance and grooming.
• Wearing of sunglasses at inappropriate times.
• Continual wearing of long-sleeved garments particularly in hot weather or reluctance to wear short sleeved attire when appropriate.
• Association with known substance abusers.
• Unusual borrowing of money from friends, co-workers or parents.
• Stealing small items from employer, home or school.
• Secretive behavior regarding actions and possessions; poorly concealed attempts to avoid attention and suspicion such as frequent trips to storage rooms, restroom, basement, etc.
• Spills coffee and never cleans it up, like a little bitch.

Ok, I might have added the last one... Did I mention that there were four days left?

Ok, his ugly, pain-in-the-ass couch is gone and his drums are all packed up. Very exciting. I hate that couch. It's this 27 piece monstrosity that curves around the whole room. It's very uncomfortable because it has this strange hump to it that forces you to sloutch on it and makes it impossible for you to lie on it. The pieces are not connected so if you are sitting in one section next to your girlfriend, for instance, you'll find yourself drifting away from the larger part due to the wood floors. Ugh!! He seems to be losing his grip on reality, though. He admitted to someone that will remain anonymous that he was doing schrooms a few days ago. And I seriously doubt he was talking about portobellos. Of course, he said soon after that he meant to say that he had a DREAM about taking schrooms. You know... those schroom dreams. Doesn't everyone have those? Whose with me?! Anyone??

Only one day left! And I can't tell you how excited I am! I've pretty much stayed away at the house because my brother is there and can keep an eye on things. I know for a fact that if I am around him I'm going to be tempted to tell him what kind of bum I think he is. So, it's best I just stay away so his departure is timely. And I'll help that things are calm when he leaves because there's another power bill coming up that he's responsible for and I don't want to say anything until I get that money from him. After that, all bets are off.

I was up at 8am to see that progress was being made. Not a peep. Mike spent the entire official last day sleeping in his room and I guess his girlfriend sat there watching him. I'll never understand that whole deal. She is a nice, friendly girl and seems to have her shit together. She actually seems to be the opposite of him, at least this is what outward appearances would suggest. She has a masters degree and actually works. He dropped out of college and doesn't work, unless of course you consider playing your stereo at a thousand decibles "work".
Anyway, I woke up this morning with my throat almost closed up. It was freezing cold in the house. For reasons beyond my human comprehension, either he or the girlfriend decided to turn the AC down to 74 degrees. Which is ballsy considering he's not even supposed to BE HERE!
This morning around 10am, I asked his girlfriend if they were on schedule to leave by noon. She said that they would be, which I find impossible since he only has an hour and twenty minutes to move and clean his room up. Clean. Ha. Ha ha. HA HA HA HA HA!! HA HA HA HA HA HAA !!!! Regardless, I told her that they needed to be done by noon because I needed to go in there and arrange and straighten up so that my brother could start moving his stuff in this afternoon. I told a little lie but I felt it was better than raging on them... I'm still trying to stay calm... until noon hits, that is. Will keep you posted, of course, faithful reader.

Ok... so the "world's laziest prick" waited until I left the house to ask my brother if he could move out tomorrow at noon. For some reason that logic can't explain, he said "I don't see any problem." So Mike has basically stayed in his room all day and not moved a thing. Just hung out with his girlfriend and stayed in his room. OUT OUT OUT!!!!!!!

Here's another story about Mike and his endless, childlike innocense. By "childlike innocense", I mean that he acts like a newborn. Lots of drooling and pants-shitting. Ha ha ha ha ha ha! I was sitting in the living room, watching "Food Network" when Mike wandered in on his way to the Porch of Doom. Next is an actual conversation between me and the world's biggest dipshit.
Mike: "Hey! What's the deal with Emeril? Why's he so popular?" Me: "Well, I think he relates to regular people. One minute he's making creme brulee and the next you see him eating a hoagie." Mike: "Hoagie doagie fogie doagie"
I wish I was kidding. This conversation actually happened. He just spouted out nonsense words. I'm still amazed by this, mainly because the guy is 24 and should be able to conduct a real conversation. I also saw it as an opportunity to try and connect with him in some way. Too bad I don't speak "dipshit".

So I came home after working my two jobs to a dirty kitchen, of course. A good portion of the mess was mine so I cleaned it. Wiped everything down and put stuff in the sink to put in the dishwasher later. And then I left the kitchen. Came back an hour later to find a wine bottle on the counter with the cork floating inside, some odd black smear on the counter and a bottle of gin on the other side of the sink. Somehow, Mike managed to pour wine on the freshly cleaned counter, which was about a foot away from a roll of paper towels. Instead of cleaning it, I left it there. This morning, I walked through the kitchen to find remnants of "Easy Mac" all over the counter. For those of you that aren't aware, Easy Mac is macaroni and cheese for dumbshits who are unable to boil water. You throw the ingredients into a bowl, add water and put it in the microwave. It might just be the perfect food for people with the munchies (wink wink) as it takes mere seconds from package to plate. Anyway, the step that involved putting the contents into a bowl confused Mike so he poured much of it onto the counter. I'm staying calm. Trying.

I've decided to post some pictures of the porch where Mike likes to sit for hours. When he could be working. It's actually CLEANER than it was last week. For some reason, he took down his row of beer bottles he had lined up on the windowsill.

Here's a wide shot of the porch. This is where losers go to contemplate their future. Or their next beer.



I put the paper bag out there so he would do this. Corner = garbage can!



"Sometimes, when I'm bored, I like to etch into someone else's chair."



Another shot of the porch. If I close my eyes, I can imagine that beer bottle on the stool (that has been there for weeks) magically floats into the garbage bag located mere inches away!



Why use the ashtray when the floor is straight down from my lazy ass arm?! Mmmmmm... tar..... nicotene...



As you can see, the guy is a bit messy. And the pictures really don't do it justice. If only I had "smell-o-vision"... The pictures really don't show the gray, splotchy look of the floor from his ground-in ashes. And for some reason, he cleaned out the ashtray! First time in months!

My roommate just unloaded some samples of Vioxx on me. Why, I have no idea. He apparently got a whole bunch of it for his surgery as samples and doesn't need them all. I think he's trying to get on my good side in some odd way. Doesn't he realize that all he has to do is CLEAN UP AFTER HIMSELF?!!!

In response to the retarded, stammering message he left on my voicemail, I decided to confuse him with a letter that addressed all of his rambling issues. It was six pages, double spaced. I talked about how he never ever cleans. It's insane. Apparently, the only response he could come up with was a mark on the cover page in red pen giving me an "A+" but saying that I should use spell check. That's actually pretty clever coming from a college dropout with attention deficit disorder. Ha ha ha.
Seriously, thought, he had no retort. I've cleaned up after him so many times I should call myself "Mini Maid". The front porch is a beer and cigarette wasteland because he's a smoker with no job and spends countless hours sitting there, contemplating his self-created situation. What can he possibly be thinking about? It's not about getting a job because he just started looking!? And he's been unemployed for months!
Anyway, after about a year and a half of watching the porch turn into a big outdoor ashtray/garbage dump and after he and I had a conversation about how it's a bad idea to make a place that's easily accessable to the landlord look like crap. He seemed to understand. And then he continued to put his cigarettes out on the floor.
After leaving a garbage can out there, I finally got fed up and cleaned up out there. Swept, picked up the beer bottles and cans and wiped down the chairs which were covered in ash. I thought that he would take the hint and keep up with it, which is much easier than what I did. He subsequently lost his job and got a DUI, which apparently means creating a mess of everything else around you, including the porch. It's now worse than what it was before. And this is one of the many reasons why he makes me sick.

Introducing Crazy Dude!

This is Crazy Dude. He's crazy. And he'd like to voice his opinion about the roommate situation. "Why is this guy still alive?! Maybe it's the 15 cups of coffee talking, but I would have gutted him like a friggin' fish months ago? Are you a saint? Or are you just a friggin' stupid ass?! ANSWER ME!!!!!!" Well, Crazy Guy... "It's 'Crazy Dude', dickhead! Get it straight!?!!! AAAAAARRRRGGHH!!!" Well, Crazy Dude, I'm no saint. And I've indicated this to the roommate just as I'm telling you. I leave things lying around the house on occasion but I pick up after myself. And I pick up after him. He never lifts a finger to clean, which is annoying. I also went through a year where he payed bills late. And there are the other things that he did that show a general lack of common sense as well as a lack of concern for others in the house. I'll be taking a picture of the back porch to display for all to see so you can get a feel for how he likes to keep things. The entire house would be this bad if not for me and my brother. I also have to admit that I don't cut him any slack because I don't have any respect for someone who can't do the absolute minimum -- which is having a job, staying out of trouble and taking care of yourself, especially if you're 24 and your mom and dad have to pay for lawyers and living expenses while sleeping all day, spilling coffee and playing XBOX. (exiting soap box) "Ah... so you're a stupid ass... I see..." Drop dead, Crazy Dude.

Today, I came home and needed to use the phone. It was on the floor of the living room on the cradle, recharging. As I put the receiver to my face, I noticed the distinct odor of coffee. I further noticed that the entire phone was sticky and I looked down at the charger to see a small pool of coffee in the curved inside part. Someone had poured coffee on the phone, enough to cover it and enough to have it pool underneath.
Two possibilities: (1) Mike accidentally spilled coffee on the phone. This is unlikely due to the fact that he would have had to bend down to get coffee precisely on the phone and not on the answering machine next to it, and (2) Mike purposefully poured coffee on my phone. My brother and I have both been away from the house, he for days and myself since yesterday. The coffee had not yet completely dried so it had to have been done today.
If number one is correct, that makes Mike a prick. Anytime you have an accident like that, you clean it up. That's what adults do. If number two is true, that makes Mike a passive-aggressive little bitch. He didn't show up all night so I have to assume that he did something obnoxious like this and then stayed away so as not to face me. Fine, stay away from the house. Your f'ing days are numbered, anyway. Twelve days! Not soon enough!!!!
My first instinct was to go into his room with a pot of coffee and pour it on his bed. I called my brother and he told me to keep calm... just to count the days. He also said I could take solace in the fact that he won't last long in the outside world and that the odds are good that he will get hit by the stupid bus. I contend that the stupid bus ran his retarded ass over and backed up to see what it hit.

My brother came back from traveling to notice a buzz coming from one of his speakers. As if someone was playing them loudly and they they blew. Hmmm... wonder who would go into his room and play Xbox with the sound blasting? Any guesses? Anyone?! I'll give you a hint... I've been staying at my girlfriend's apartment and have my own Xbox and have no reason to be in his room. Hmm.... wait a second... my roommate Mike has this kind of M.O.! He once borrowed one of my DVD's without asking. Took it to his room (which I noticed but didn't say anything). I then found it on the living room table (and not on the shelf where it was) and the cover was sticking out of the case. Closer inspection revealed the paper cover was saturated with coffee, ruining it.
When I confronted him, he said groggily "Well, it could have been me. I drink coffee and I borrowed the DVD." He never apologized or admitted any wrongdoing. So I said, "There is coffee all over the DVD and someone needs to clean it." So he stood in the kitchen wiping down my DVD (although the case was ruined). All I wanted was a friggin' apology. And he should have wiped the damn thing down when he spilled coffee on it in the first place! It's like living with a child!

Mike and I had "words" yesterday. I came home early from work and found an empty house and a thermostat set at 76 degrees. It's wonderful to pay for other people's stupidity. I called his answering machine and left a stern but polite message asking him to PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE adjust the thermostat if he's planning on leaving the house and to make sure to let his girlfriend know to do that as well because I had told mine to do the same. His response was to leave a rambling, confused messages on my cell phone. First he said that he didn't do it and the next sentence was that he "might" have left the AC on. And then he started bringing up the fact that my girlfriend does laundry at the house. Sorry, dumbass, she's doing my laundry. (Buzzer sound!) Next topic: he complained that I don't clean the dishes and I leave them there. (Buzzer sound!) Sorry, wrong again. F*ck head hasn't cleaned any part of the kitchen in the two years he's been there. Never mopped, never swept, never cleaned the countertops. Every day, I find myself cleaning up coffee stains and grounds off the counter. And trash. And the fact that he has no job and is constantly at the house... well, I'd have to say that he's probably using quite a bit more electricity than I am since I'm rarely ever home. What a f*ckin' piece of crap! Loser loser loser!!! At least I can take solace in the fact that he's GONE July 1st. No f'ing way he was going to be on the lease again. I made sure of that! There's more to the story but I'm too tired to write. More later... including other misadventures of the dumbshit.

Mike took it apon himself to go into the fridge and drink an entire 12 pack of beer that belonged to my brother. Well, he and his friends did. Perhaps he was celebrating the return of his license, which incidentally is to be used only to get to work and back. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!! (UPDATE: The license was reinstated with no restrictions. Well, he's on probation or whatever they call it. The justice system has failed!) I imagine he's probably going to be WAY hungover for his court-mandated alcohol abuse counseling. By the way, he didn't ask if he could drink the beer and he didn't mention anything after it happened. He's a punk ass! Oh, he's also having some type of jaw surgery, which means that he's probably mixing alcohol with steroids and antidepressants. Can you say "liver failure"? I wonder how his folks feel about footing the bill for this type of foolishness? Are they oblivious?

Mike is one of those roommates who is so self centered that I don't believe he even realizes or appreciates that his actions affect other people. Living in a house with someone like that is completely nerve racking. My brother is in a band and sometimes he gets in late from gigs. One morning, he climbed into bed around 4am. He was awoken a little over two hours later by the cacophonic sounds of Pantera, playing in Mike's room as if the stereo's volume was stuck on 11. My brother was too tired to even get up. The next day when confronted, Mike dismissed him by saying that he "had" to play his music that loud because he had to get up and he was on medication that prevented him from getting up without having metal music blaring. No "I'm sorry" or "I'll work on it" or anything like that. He HAD to do it. So to hell with everyone else. This is why he pisses me off. He has no social skills.

Mike has had his license returned. I believe it's one of those "work, school and home" licenses that only allow limited hours for him to drive. He told my brother that he plans on staying in a friends apartment for a little bit after the lease is up and then moving to New York. If you can make it there... etc, etc...

I had to leave a note on the fridge today because Mike has decided that it's important to keep the AC running regardless of whether people are in the house or not. And since he has all this disposable income, why not spend it on unnecessarily pricey power bills and alcohol, says he! He has a joint account with his mom, so I'm pretty sure that she's covering his bills anyway, which is confusing since he's always late paying me for the power bill. Dumbass!!!

Mike was bragging to Chris and extolling the virtues of collecting unemployment. Hey kids! Can you spell "BUM"? I knew that you could! A few weeks later, I found a crumpled note in the kitchen ( a few feet from the garbage can) from the unemployment office saying that his benefits had been denied. HA HA HA HA!! Now he has to pay back the money!!! HA HA HA HA HA!!! F*cking bum!!!! (Insert evil laughter here)

Here's a chart that might help explain the roommate situation.

Disclaimer: I know the numbers don't really add up. You get the idea. Bite me.

Does Mike have a criminal record? I'll give you a minute to think about it..... Yeah, you're right. He does. He decided a couple of weeks after being pulled over and then let go after drinking all night to test his luck. Maybe he was celebrating his current employment situation. Anyway, the po-po's were in full effect this night. He wasn't let go with a warning. And now this jobless loser is trying to live off the government teet AND is burdening his parents with legal bills. Any of you guys need a roommate?

Does Mike have a job? The answer -- a resounding "NO". He couldn't hack the high stress world of the hospitality industry. Apparently, a customer called back 20 minutes after ordering her eggs benedict and carafe of OJ and he told her to "f*ck off". And he was proud to tell me about it. And a couple of weeks later, he was bragging to my brother about how he was going to collect unemployment because his supervisor was doctoring the payroll. What one has to do with the other I have no idea but in the world of Mr. Fruity Nutcake anything makes sense if you wish it so.

The Mike saga continues... Ok... so this guy keeps getting worse and worse. For a year, he was constantly late paying his share of the power bill. When I asked him the 50 billionth time about it, he asked me why I pay the bill so soon... my response? "BECAUSE THAT'S WHEN IT'S F*CKIN' DUE!?!!!" I'm telling you, his parents must have dropped him on his head as a kid.

You'll have to excuse my lack of updates lately. I've been working eleven hour days which includes my internship as well as helping my girlfriend move. It's SO much fun to be this tired. The Mike Story... continued... Mike decided that he wanted to practice drums one day so as he was banging away, he managed to put his elbow through a glass window. Instead of having someone fix it, he left it broken for a time and then decided to tape some cardboard where the pane once existed. Can you say "cheap" and "sorry", boys and girls?

Ok... I've been bagged on for not blogging enough. Fine. I'll write every day. I'm inspired by my soon-to-be ex-roommate, henceforth named "Mike". He's a dipshit and I feel I should chronical his misadventures. So... on to part two. Soon after Mike arrived, I began hearing rumors, like the fact that he was on ritalin and had ADD. Or ADHD. Or whatever they call it now. And he wasn't currently in school but was planning on going back. At that point, he was working at a local hotel as the "room service" guy, the one that brought the $10 bagel and carafe of orange juice to your room, always entirely too late. Well, the world of hotel food service must have been too enticing because he as of yet has not rejoined the academic world. Not that he has that capacity. He has problems even holding a coherant conversation. When you try to talk to him, his eyes dart about the room. And sometimes, he spouts off gibberish responses to statements. Ugh... When Mike moved in, we had a room devoted to music, which means it was packed with instruments and equipment, including a full drum set.

So now I'm realizing that I should have used this site as a forum for rants regarding my roommate, henceforth named "Mike". Mike is always a source of frustrating amazement. He's in his early twenties with no real goals or aims in life. I ended up with him because the previous roommate was a nutjob. We will call him "Allen". Allen was a friend of mine and my brother's but we came to realize after living with him that he was having problems with the complex chemicals that make up normal brains and their subsequent activity. Instead of seratonin, I believe his brain was coarsing with Mountain Berry Blast Kool-Aid. Anyway, there were a few warning signs, including a film class project in which the conclusion involved a pistol suicide. The defining moment was when I came home and saw him in fetal position on the pool table, the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder, sobbing lightly. He had managed to break every window in the room with a pool cue and glass was everywhere. So, this was near the end of the lease and we were to renew and needed someone to quickly take over. A friend of my brother's suggested this guy named Mike. Apparently, he was a nice pleasant church-going fellow, which pleased me because I assumed that that meant he was grounded and had moral control. Boy, was I wrong. More to follow, kids...