Saturday, October 27, 2007


Dear Roommate,

When I tell you that YOUR dirty dishes are attracting flies, that's not me telling you to put up fly paper strips. It's me telling you to f$%cking wash the dishes!

Friday, October 26, 2007

This Just In...Your Roommate is a Dick

Dear Roommate,


I'm sick of cleaning up your "trash corner".

A Chronic Liar

Dear roommate,

Stop telling me you are on your last bag of weed. I know and you know that you will never quit smoking. It's ok. It's part of your charm. You're a pothead. What isn't charming is hearing you constantly tell me that you've discovered the secret to quitting weed - a secret you will implement in your own life as soon as this last bag runs out...

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Dicks

Dear Roommate,

I honestly can't live in silence anymore.

Somebody has to tell you that these portraits you paint of your girlfriend SUCK!!! It wouldn't bother me so much if you didn't insist on decorating our apartment with them.

Face it, you're getting a C- in art appreciation for a reason.

Baby Dick

Dear Roommate,

I told you not to mess with my Halo game while I was at class. You think you're so funny deleting my profile.

Hey, you wanna know what's really funny? Posting your dorky baby pictures! Suck it Biatch!

Don't mess with Master Chief.


Dear Roommate,

I get shivers down my back everytime I hear you singing, "Shave and a Haircut -- Tooth Pubes!"

Please take the time to remove my toothbrush from your barber shop quartet.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Iron this Dick Out

Dear Roommate,

Ok, seriously bro, I think it's about time we talk about getting a REAL kitchen table.

Monday, October 22, 2007

This Dick "Belongs" on the Street

Dear Roommate,

Pots, pans, jars of spices, and sacks of flour belong in the kitchen, not the TV room. Ice cube trays belong in the freezer, not your bathroom floor. Tampons and over-the-counter yeast infection medication belong in your bathroom, not the coffee table. The back door screen belongs on the back door, not inexplicably torn out and propped up against the wall. And if you're going to be pissy about how you've had such a hard week and have to work 15-hour days and that I shouldn't start with you, please bear in mind that five hours before they have to get up on Monday morning, working adults belong in BED and not sucking down handles of Jim Beam in front of a week's worth of Tivoed shit.

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