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[Jan. 31st, 2009|02:57 am] |
| [ | A Bit of the Old Ludwig Van |
| | Sportscenter | ] |
God damnit. I'm tired. I'm pissed. I'm ready to fucking snap at anyone.
I put up with loud, drunk, moderately violent roommates tonight. I had a couple of beers, but not as much as everyone else. Around 1:30, I told Mike I was going to bed, and asked him to keep the noise down. And I know he tried. He turned the TV down, since everyone was playing Rock Band 2, and the tv is right behind the wall that's behind my head when I sleep. I heard him telling people to be quiet. But NO ONE FUCKING LISTENED. HOW FUCKING HARD IS IT TO LOWER THE GOD DAMN VOLUME OF YOUR VOICE? <---- I appreciate some good irony.
So they finally stop playing, and people start leaving. Then, all of a sudden, there's about six different voices in the hall, right outside my door. Phil, who was/is HAMMERED, refused to crash here or have someone drive him home, demanding his keys and saying he was going to drive home. People almost kicked his ass. Including me. So then, the girls next door come home, raging drunk, and none of them have their keys, so they're sitting in the living room waiting for someone to let them in. And I have to be up for work in.... 6 hours. AWESOME.
Fuck. |
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