[This one is pretty absurd and inside, but if you've got a better idea for how to dress Ben Simpson in a bathrobe and slippers and drape an afghan over him and put him in a rocking chair, then I'd like to hear it. Obviously inspired by the mental image I was given by Christian somewhere in here.]
CHRISTIAN
Well now that Terriervision is up and running, people have been able to watch the show in their dorm rooms for the first time. So some of you home viewers may not know this, but we’ve been taping episodes for more than a year now. So to give you a little taste of what we’ve been doing with the show, our editor Ben Simpson has put together a little Best Of package. So let’s roll that.
Pause
CHRISTIAN
(CON’T)
Uh, do we have that package? We don’t? What happened? Ben?
CUT TO
BEN, sitting in an old rocking chair, wearing a bad sweater underneath a bathrobe, slippers and small reading glasses. He is covered by an afghan. He is rocking back and forth ever so slightly.
BEN
Yes?
CHRISTIAN
Ben? Do we have the package?
BEN
Yeah, yeah. Let me get that.
BEN tries to lift himself out of his chair with great effort, but eventually sinks back down, exhaling deeply.
BEN
(CON’T)
Ooh. That hurt.
CHRISTIAN
Uh Ben, is something wrong?
BEN
Oh you know. I’m just getting older. The joints aren’t what they used to be.
CHRISTIAN
I guess. Could you just—
BEN
The knees are acting up.
CHRISTIAN
The knees? You mean your knees or some other knees?
BEN
Oh, they’re aching. Must be a storm rolling in.
CHRISTIAN
OK, well could you get the tape please so we could roll—
BEN
I’m going, I’m going.
BEN finally pulls himself out of his chair, grunting and carrying on.
BEN
(CON’T)
Boy, it’s muggy in here.
CHRISTIAN
Yeah, I’m sorry about that.
BEN
Can’t you do something about that?
CHRISTIAN
I don’t know.
BEN
What’s that? Speak up.
CHRISTIAN
(shouting at first before becoming embarrassed and speaking normally)
I don’t know. Ben, are you OK?
BEN begins shuffling around aimlessly, patting his bathrobe and pants to check if he left the tape in his pocket.
BEN
Oh, you know how it is. The years fly by. Where did I put—
BEN pulls a remote out of his front pocket.
BEN
(CON’T)
Oh, here it is.
BEN walks over to CHRISTIAN, handing him the remote.
CHRISTIAN
No, Ben, this is a remote.
BEN
Oh, daggum it, I was looking for this—oh no, not this one, is this the remote to the VCR? Or maybe the DVD, I can't tell them apart. Where’s that TV remote?
BEN begins walking away and CHRISTIAN grabs him by his bathrobe to stop him.
CHRISTIAN
No, Ben. Not now, we’re looking for the tape.
BEN
Right, right, right. Have you seen that remote though? Because I—
CHRISTIAN
No, Ben. I’ll help you look for the remote later. Right now we just need that tape.
BEN
All right, all right, don’t get upset, now. I think I put it in your desk, could I just—
BEN tries to step up onto the couch but trips on the platform and lies motionless, making a number of quiet noises of distress and embarrassment. CHRISTIAN steps out from behind the desk to help Ben up.
CHRISTIAN
Oh my God, are you OK? Let me just—
BEN
(panting, out of breath)
Oh, I’m fine, don’t—don’t worry yourself with me. Just put me down on the couch.
With CHRISTIAN’S help, BEN sprawls out on the couch, puts his hand on his chest and breathes heavily for a few seconds. Christian tentatively returns to his spot behind the desk.
CHRISTIAN
So, uh, Ben. Are you OK?
BEN
Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine. I don't know where I put that remote, though.
CHRISTIAN
All right. I guess the tape will have to wait, we’ll be right back.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Friday, January 20, 2006
Trash talk
Christian and I have been talking about competing in MVP baseball for months now and today was finally the day when both of us were free and we scheduled a game for after class. What follows is the entire conversation we had, almost completely unedited. Note the timestamps.
Clynch753 (1:19:12 PM): yea booooooooooy
ShrimpSar (1:19:26 PM): is today the day?
Auto response from Clynch753 (1:19:26 PM): doing some reading
Clynch753 (1:19:40 PM): today is the day, im gonna chill with killian at 2 for a cup of coffee
Clynch753 (1:19:46 PM): or some shinanigans like that
Clynch753 (1:19:50 PM): i've talked a big game
Clynch753 (1:19:54 PM): i better come up big
...
ShrimpSar (1:21:04 PM): ok i'll be here
Clynch753 (1:21:10 PM): you will
Clynch753 (1:21:28 PM): well, you might want to go out and buy some ben gay...cause you gon' be in pain when i dones with you
ShrimpSar (1:21:56 PM): please, i've been preparing for this moment my entire life
Clynch753 (1:22:02 PM): hahaha
Clynch753 (1:22:04 PM): im sure
Clynch753 (1:22:34 PM): well, im sorry if you have to clean up the blood on your carpet when im finished with you, but it comes with the game
ShrimpSar (1:23:18 PM): we have a hardwood floor, which should make it all the easier to find your teeth when i scatter them around the room with a beanball
Clynch753 (1:23:54 PM): oh hard wood floor, well, you should throw down some wood chips so no one will slip in your vomit
ShrimpSar (1:24:45 PM): that's a real possibility, the tears of a weaker opponent do make me feel a little queasy
Clynch753 (1:25:48 PM): i cant even come back from that
Clynch753 (1:25:51 PM): ive trapped myself
Clynch753 (1:25:55 PM): in insults
ShrimpSar (1:26:21 PM): haha
Clynch753 (1:26:23 PM): but seriously, you should go out and buy a disposable camera for insurance purposes
ShrimpSar (1:27:20 PM): a camera's probably a good idea because you won't be able to see it coming
ShrimpSar (1:27:30 PM): BAM and it's over
Clynch753 (1:27:55 PM): i just want to let you know that the last person i played in MVP was, believe it or not, Terri Shiavo. some people said she got into an accident....tis was no accident. it was shame from losing MVP against me that made her fall
ShrimpSar (1:29:33 PM): you'll wish you were schiavo after i'm done with you. even delay will be like, "damn, that kid is fucking done."
Clynch753 (1:30:25 PM): i mean i have to tell you upfront, i have a contract that i need you to sign before we play that clearly states that you knew that death was possible while playing MVP against me. Cause when i send you home to your parents in a body bag, i don't want them to think you didn't know it was a possibility
ShrimpSar (1:31:55 PM): ok. sorry i don't have a contract for you, but the government recognizes playing mvp against me as an illegal unsanctioned bloodsport.
ShrimpSar (1:32:05 PM): we might have to move the game to international waters
Clynch753 (1:32:26 PM): oh, and what to you want your obit to read, cause "Loses Game Horrifically to Superior Player/Friend/Coworker" is a bit weird....maybe "Autoerotic Asphyxiation" would be more dignified?
ShrimpSar (1:33:24 PM): nah, probably just something like "exploded in a white-hot inferno of mvp baseball superiority"
Clynch753 (1:33:25 PM): nah, no need to move it to international waters, we can just play in the basement of Myles...they have pitbull fights there
ShrimpSar (1:33:47 PM): that basement is pretty dank
Clynch753 (1:34:21 PM): yes it is, but not as dank as your soul will be when i give it a lethal dose of shame
ShrimpSar (1:35:49 PM): i have no soul. i am not a human. i am an mvp baseball machine.
Clynch753 (1:37:41 PM): well, i am a virus. and all machines get raped by viruses
ShrimpSar (1:39:59 PM): fat chance. i am updating my mcafee right now.
Clynch753 (1:41:41 PM): see, the thing about machines is that they think that they can replace human intelligence, but the truth is...they just cant. they are cold heartless machines, that will never understand, nor capture, the true passion behind a MVP Baseball prodigy
ShrimpSar (1:43:54 PM): i'll let you in on a secret. i'm not really just a machine created to play mvp baseball. i am mvp baseball. i am infallible.
Clynch753 (1:45:08 PM): oh chris, all machines are fallible, you just havent been hacked yet....and today, youve met your match. it's ok, i wont tell your friends about the level of disgrace you will feel this afternoon
ShrimpSar (1:46:34 PM): well it'll be hard for them to miss your screams of torment and anguish. i've done this before and believe me, it will hurt.
Clynch753 (1:48:28 PM): well, im not one to make lofty comparisons, but today i'll try. you will be the christians to my romans
Clynch753 (1:48:32 PM): thats all im gonna say
Clynch753 (1:48:41 PM): the christians to my lions
ShrimpSar (1:50:29 PM): it's funny you mention that because there is a small breakaway sect from the greek orthodoxy that now recognizes the holy trinity as compising the father, the son and chris sartinsky: supernatural mvp baseball master
Clynch753 (1:51:51 PM): really, well, probably some fanatic nuts worshipping a false god...just like the mormons. people make mistakes chris, especially in religion.
Clynch753 (1:52:33 PM): well, if you are holy, well see when i beat you and you cry blood from your eyes and hands
Clynch753 (1:53:02 PM): you're going to die for the sin of saying you are the greatest MVP player
ShrimpSar (1:54:14 PM): even jesus had to die, but like him, i will have eternal life in my mvp superiority
Clynch753 (1:54:57 PM): there will be no transfiguration today my friend. for i am a prophet, and my prophecy sees nothing but pain in your future
Clynch753 (1:56:03 PM): hmmm, ben simpson just told me that his knees acting up. must be a storm coming
ShrimpSar (1:57:14 PM): this upcoming mvp baseball game reminds me of a latin phrase "ipse ipsi dictum" which means death to all...i'm boxcar
Clynch753 (1:57:49 PM): hahaha
Clynch753 (1:59:35 PM): really, cause i think you got the translation wrong...the phrase is actually ipsi ipsae dictum" , now i took latin, and the use of -ae is clearly the 2nd person. so it translates to "death to you", and in that sense, yes, the phrase does seem relevant to todays matchup
Clynch753 (2:00:56 PM): TRASH TALK UPDATE: We just hit the 40 minute mark of this verbal battle
ShrimpSar (2:02:03 PM): so you know a little latin, do you? well here's a translation you might want to work out before today's game. "please, sir, find me morphine to take my mind off the pain"
ShrimpSar (2:02:06 PM): hahaha awesome [in reference to the conversation hitting the 40 minute mark, not an appreciation of my own comeback]
Clynch753 (2:05:35 PM): well, in those days, morphine didnt exist, and typically they used alcohol to numb pain. NOW, as you know, i am usually sharper when a bit tipsy. so you have to ask youself chris? do you want me to hit the bottle before playing...cause i will. if you feel you need me to handicap myself, because you cant handle the real me...i'll do it, and still kick your nuts so hard they will shatter through your skull and through the ceiling...and travel at such a fast rate that they break the sound barrier....and make their way through earths atmosphere...then due to graviational pull, get sucked into the sun, where your very manhood will be burned up like the rest of your legacy
ShrimpSar (2:08:59 PM): i don't think you should be as concerned with bringing alcohol as you should be with bringing a revolver and a single bullet so the humiliation can be over as quickly and painlessly as possible for you
Previous message was not received by Clynch753 because of error (2:08:59 PM): User Clynch753 is not available.
ShrimpSar (2:09:31 PM): i don't think you should be as concerned with bringing alcohol as you should be with bringing a revolver and a single bullet so the humiliation can be over as quickly and painlessly as possible for you
Auto response from Clynch753 (2:09:32 PM): doing some reading
Clynch753 (2:10:27 PM): hahaha, i got singed off for a second, is that all you said, or did i miss a little
ShrimpSar (2:11:01 PM): no just the one thing, the sheer heat and fury of the burn must have incinerated a cable or a chip somewhere
Clynch753 (2:11:30 PM): perhaps, perhaps
Clynch753 (2:12:12 PM): oh man, well, im gonna go meet up with killian, and then i will come over sans gun and bullet
ShrimpSar (2:12:31 PM): excellent
ShrimpSar (2:13:09 PM): tell killian i'm sorry i had to do this to you
Clynch753 (2:13:24 PM): and i'll bring over a little memorial plack, like the one in miles, commemorating your life by saying "Student Chris Sartinsky died in Room ____" and will creep out every student in the future who lives in your haunted room
Clynch753 (2:13:52 PM): a room where dreams die
ShrimpSar (2:13:56 PM): does myles really have something like that?
ShrimpSar (2:13:57 PM): haha
Clynch753 (2:14:00 PM): yea, they do
ShrimpSar (2:14:10 PM): oh man i never knew that, that's awful
Clynch753 (2:14:25 PM): next time you go check it out
ShrimpSar (2:14:32 PM): yeah i will
Clynch753 (2:14:39 PM): its where to sofas are in the lobby on the wall
Clynch753 (2:14:40 PM): its crazy
Clynch753 (2:14:42 PM): anywho
Clynch753 (2:14:46 PM): i gtg prep
ShrimpSar (2:14:54 PM): ok, i'll let you go "meet killian" or more likely phone your lawyer to make sure your estate is in order
Clynch753 (2:15:11 PM): and by prep i mean drink coffee leisurely, without fear of loss
ShrimpSar (2:16:57 PM): ok well i'm gonna let this end for both of our sakes
Clynch753 (2:17:16 PM): see ya in a bit
Clynch753 (2:17:20 PM): i'll call you when i get there
ShrimpSar (2:17:30 PM): ok bye
Clynch753 signed off at 2:19:39 PM.
For those keeping score at him, the time from Christian's first insult to my graceful bow was 55 minutes and 29 seconds.
The final score of the game? The Christian controlled New York Mets pulled off an inexplicable miracle victory over my Minnesota Twins by the score of 4-2 in (and the following will not be a typo) the TWENTY-FOURTH INNING. That's two and a half regulation games. I have never been so crushed.
Don't worry. I'm coming back in game two.
Clynch753 (1:19:12 PM): yea booooooooooy
ShrimpSar (1:19:26 PM): is today the day?
Auto response from Clynch753 (1:19:26 PM): doing some reading
Clynch753 (1:19:40 PM): today is the day, im gonna chill with killian at 2 for a cup of coffee
Clynch753 (1:19:46 PM): or some shinanigans like that
Clynch753 (1:19:50 PM): i've talked a big game
Clynch753 (1:19:54 PM): i better come up big
...
ShrimpSar (1:21:04 PM): ok i'll be here
Clynch753 (1:21:10 PM): you will
Clynch753 (1:21:28 PM): well, you might want to go out and buy some ben gay...cause you gon' be in pain when i dones with you
ShrimpSar (1:21:56 PM): please, i've been preparing for this moment my entire life
Clynch753 (1:22:02 PM): hahaha
Clynch753 (1:22:04 PM): im sure
Clynch753 (1:22:34 PM): well, im sorry if you have to clean up the blood on your carpet when im finished with you, but it comes with the game
ShrimpSar (1:23:18 PM): we have a hardwood floor, which should make it all the easier to find your teeth when i scatter them around the room with a beanball
Clynch753 (1:23:54 PM): oh hard wood floor, well, you should throw down some wood chips so no one will slip in your vomit
ShrimpSar (1:24:45 PM): that's a real possibility, the tears of a weaker opponent do make me feel a little queasy
Clynch753 (1:25:48 PM): i cant even come back from that
Clynch753 (1:25:51 PM): ive trapped myself
Clynch753 (1:25:55 PM): in insults
ShrimpSar (1:26:21 PM): haha
Clynch753 (1:26:23 PM): but seriously, you should go out and buy a disposable camera for insurance purposes
ShrimpSar (1:27:20 PM): a camera's probably a good idea because you won't be able to see it coming
ShrimpSar (1:27:30 PM): BAM and it's over
Clynch753 (1:27:55 PM): i just want to let you know that the last person i played in MVP was, believe it or not, Terri Shiavo. some people said she got into an accident....tis was no accident. it was shame from losing MVP against me that made her fall
ShrimpSar (1:29:33 PM): you'll wish you were schiavo after i'm done with you. even delay will be like, "damn, that kid is fucking done."
Clynch753 (1:30:25 PM): i mean i have to tell you upfront, i have a contract that i need you to sign before we play that clearly states that you knew that death was possible while playing MVP against me. Cause when i send you home to your parents in a body bag, i don't want them to think you didn't know it was a possibility
ShrimpSar (1:31:55 PM): ok. sorry i don't have a contract for you, but the government recognizes playing mvp against me as an illegal unsanctioned bloodsport.
ShrimpSar (1:32:05 PM): we might have to move the game to international waters
Clynch753 (1:32:26 PM): oh, and what to you want your obit to read, cause "Loses Game Horrifically to Superior Player/Friend/Coworker" is a bit weird....maybe "Autoerotic Asphyxiation" would be more dignified?
ShrimpSar (1:33:24 PM): nah, probably just something like "exploded in a white-hot inferno of mvp baseball superiority"
Clynch753 (1:33:25 PM): nah, no need to move it to international waters, we can just play in the basement of Myles...they have pitbull fights there
ShrimpSar (1:33:47 PM): that basement is pretty dank
Clynch753 (1:34:21 PM): yes it is, but not as dank as your soul will be when i give it a lethal dose of shame
ShrimpSar (1:35:49 PM): i have no soul. i am not a human. i am an mvp baseball machine.
Clynch753 (1:37:41 PM): well, i am a virus. and all machines get raped by viruses
ShrimpSar (1:39:59 PM): fat chance. i am updating my mcafee right now.
Clynch753 (1:41:41 PM): see, the thing about machines is that they think that they can replace human intelligence, but the truth is...they just cant. they are cold heartless machines, that will never understand, nor capture, the true passion behind a MVP Baseball prodigy
ShrimpSar (1:43:54 PM): i'll let you in on a secret. i'm not really just a machine created to play mvp baseball. i am mvp baseball. i am infallible.
Clynch753 (1:45:08 PM): oh chris, all machines are fallible, you just havent been hacked yet....and today, youve met your match. it's ok, i wont tell your friends about the level of disgrace you will feel this afternoon
ShrimpSar (1:46:34 PM): well it'll be hard for them to miss your screams of torment and anguish. i've done this before and believe me, it will hurt.
Clynch753 (1:48:28 PM): well, im not one to make lofty comparisons, but today i'll try. you will be the christians to my romans
Clynch753 (1:48:32 PM): thats all im gonna say
Clynch753 (1:48:41 PM): the christians to my lions
ShrimpSar (1:50:29 PM): it's funny you mention that because there is a small breakaway sect from the greek orthodoxy that now recognizes the holy trinity as compising the father, the son and chris sartinsky: supernatural mvp baseball master
Clynch753 (1:51:51 PM): really, well, probably some fanatic nuts worshipping a false god...just like the mormons. people make mistakes chris, especially in religion.
Clynch753 (1:52:33 PM): well, if you are holy, well see when i beat you and you cry blood from your eyes and hands
Clynch753 (1:53:02 PM): you're going to die for the sin of saying you are the greatest MVP player
ShrimpSar (1:54:14 PM): even jesus had to die, but like him, i will have eternal life in my mvp superiority
Clynch753 (1:54:57 PM): there will be no transfiguration today my friend. for i am a prophet, and my prophecy sees nothing but pain in your future
Clynch753 (1:56:03 PM): hmmm, ben simpson just told me that his knees acting up. must be a storm coming
ShrimpSar (1:57:14 PM): this upcoming mvp baseball game reminds me of a latin phrase "ipse ipsi dictum" which means death to all...i'm boxcar
Clynch753 (1:57:49 PM): hahaha
Clynch753 (1:59:35 PM): really, cause i think you got the translation wrong...the phrase is actually ipsi ipsae dictum" , now i took latin, and the use of -ae is clearly the 2nd person. so it translates to "death to you", and in that sense, yes, the phrase does seem relevant to todays matchup
Clynch753 (2:00:56 PM): TRASH TALK UPDATE: We just hit the 40 minute mark of this verbal battle
ShrimpSar (2:02:03 PM): so you know a little latin, do you? well here's a translation you might want to work out before today's game. "please, sir, find me morphine to take my mind off the pain"
ShrimpSar (2:02:06 PM): hahaha awesome [in reference to the conversation hitting the 40 minute mark, not an appreciation of my own comeback]
Clynch753 (2:05:35 PM): well, in those days, morphine didnt exist, and typically they used alcohol to numb pain. NOW, as you know, i am usually sharper when a bit tipsy. so you have to ask youself chris? do you want me to hit the bottle before playing...cause i will. if you feel you need me to handicap myself, because you cant handle the real me...i'll do it, and still kick your nuts so hard they will shatter through your skull and through the ceiling...and travel at such a fast rate that they break the sound barrier....and make their way through earths atmosphere...then due to graviational pull, get sucked into the sun, where your very manhood will be burned up like the rest of your legacy
ShrimpSar (2:08:59 PM): i don't think you should be as concerned with bringing alcohol as you should be with bringing a revolver and a single bullet so the humiliation can be over as quickly and painlessly as possible for you
Previous message was not received by Clynch753 because of error (2:08:59 PM): User Clynch753 is not available.
ShrimpSar (2:09:31 PM): i don't think you should be as concerned with bringing alcohol as you should be with bringing a revolver and a single bullet so the humiliation can be over as quickly and painlessly as possible for you
Auto response from Clynch753 (2:09:32 PM): doing some reading
Clynch753 (2:10:27 PM): hahaha, i got singed off for a second, is that all you said, or did i miss a little
ShrimpSar (2:11:01 PM): no just the one thing, the sheer heat and fury of the burn must have incinerated a cable or a chip somewhere
Clynch753 (2:11:30 PM): perhaps, perhaps
Clynch753 (2:12:12 PM): oh man, well, im gonna go meet up with killian, and then i will come over sans gun and bullet
ShrimpSar (2:12:31 PM): excellent
ShrimpSar (2:13:09 PM): tell killian i'm sorry i had to do this to you
Clynch753 (2:13:24 PM): and i'll bring over a little memorial plack, like the one in miles, commemorating your life by saying "Student Chris Sartinsky died in Room ____" and will creep out every student in the future who lives in your haunted room
Clynch753 (2:13:52 PM): a room where dreams die
ShrimpSar (2:13:56 PM): does myles really have something like that?
ShrimpSar (2:13:57 PM): haha
Clynch753 (2:14:00 PM): yea, they do
ShrimpSar (2:14:10 PM): oh man i never knew that, that's awful
Clynch753 (2:14:25 PM): next time you go check it out
ShrimpSar (2:14:32 PM): yeah i will
Clynch753 (2:14:39 PM): its where to sofas are in the lobby on the wall
Clynch753 (2:14:40 PM): its crazy
Clynch753 (2:14:42 PM): anywho
Clynch753 (2:14:46 PM): i gtg prep
ShrimpSar (2:14:54 PM): ok, i'll let you go "meet killian" or more likely phone your lawyer to make sure your estate is in order
Clynch753 (2:15:11 PM): and by prep i mean drink coffee leisurely, without fear of loss
ShrimpSar (2:16:57 PM): ok well i'm gonna let this end for both of our sakes
Clynch753 (2:17:16 PM): see ya in a bit
Clynch753 (2:17:20 PM): i'll call you when i get there
ShrimpSar (2:17:30 PM): ok bye
Clynch753 signed off at 2:19:39 PM.
For those keeping score at him, the time from Christian's first insult to my graceful bow was 55 minutes and 29 seconds.
The final score of the game? The Christian controlled New York Mets pulled off an inexplicable miracle victory over my Minnesota Twins by the score of 4-2 in (and the following will not be a typo) the TWENTY-FOURTH INNING. That's two and a half regulation games. I have never been so crushed.
Don't worry. I'm coming back in game two.
Monday, January 16, 2006
Found in my inbox
(excerpt from a mass email sent to one of my English classes by a fellow student)
some friends and I have been working on a zine for a few years, now were going digi.
(full email intended for the professor but actually sent to the entire philosophy class mailing list which I was on even though I didn't take the class)
Hi prfessor
I was writing to apologyze for not being in class twise this week. I have not
been feeling very well. I am caught up with the readings, and I will ask
someone for their notes next week. Sorry for the invonvinience.
some friends and I have been working on a zine for a few years, now were going digi.
(full email intended for the professor but actually sent to the entire philosophy class mailing list which I was on even though I didn't take the class)
Hi prfessor
I was writing to apologyze for not being in class twise this week. I have not
been feeling very well. I am caught up with the readings, and I will ask
someone for their notes next week. Sorry for the invonvinience.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Dr. Seuss grapples with a short spell of writer's block
What rhymes with “Tragorbler.”
Ahhhhh…dammit…
Tra…Gra…Fla…fuck fuck fuck…
Think, Seuss, think...
...
...motherfucker, I need a drink.
Pra, pha, pla--Platrobler! There we go. Platrobler. Phew.
Ahhhhh…dammit…
Tra…Gra…Fla…fuck fuck fuck…
Think, Seuss, think...
...
...motherfucker, I need a drink.
Pra, pha, pla--Platrobler! There we go. Platrobler. Phew.
I am terribly afraid of my new roommate
My roommate from last year and the first semester of this year is studying abroad in London this semester. One would think that BU would inform people like me of who they were planning on filling his space with, but no. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of people across campus are moving into rooms that have been vacated by their roommates wondering who they will find when they move in. Because BU is stupid. But I digress.
I arrived tonight finding the room empty but for what I left here before I went home for winter break. This made me hopeful that, despite the almost impossible odds, I would have the double all to myself this semester. But I just returned from dinner to find my new roommate’s things in my room, though he went somewhere and is nowhere to be found. I don’t know his name, what he looks like, anything about him. All I have to go by is the stuff he left behind (and the strange fact that he left the bathroom light on, though I don't have any idea what that could mean).
There’s a guitar, an amp, an ugly hat, a jacket with a ski tag, a couple bags, a water filter (he gets a few points for this one) and a dress shirt folded up on his bed.
And then under his bed, there is a large white furry thing.
I have no idea what it is. It could be a jacket, but who would wear that for a jacket? It could be a rug, but I don’t want it sitting on my floor, scaring me all the time. I could be a living thing that is asleep and I’m afraid to turn my music or TV too loud for fear it will wake up.
It’s scary, though.
What am I to make of this? Am I reading too much into it? It’s probably nothing to worry about, but from here, it certainly looks like something I should worry about. The safest thing to do would probably be to set fire to it before he comes back or the furry thing wakes and swallows me whole. All I know is I’m deathly afraid of this kid, most likely a freshman, and I haven’t even met him yet. He could come in here and ask to trade beds, desks, closets, belongings or anything else and I would immediately do it with no questions asked simply out of the fear that he would unleash whatever dark power is in that white furball sitting under his bed without a second thought. It could kill me. It could wipe out the entire city.
Don’t worry, though. I understand my obligation here. I will do what he asks me. There will be no trouble. I won’t let millions die because of my own obstinacy. Just pray for me.
I arrived tonight finding the room empty but for what I left here before I went home for winter break. This made me hopeful that, despite the almost impossible odds, I would have the double all to myself this semester. But I just returned from dinner to find my new roommate’s things in my room, though he went somewhere and is nowhere to be found. I don’t know his name, what he looks like, anything about him. All I have to go by is the stuff he left behind (and the strange fact that he left the bathroom light on, though I don't have any idea what that could mean).
There’s a guitar, an amp, an ugly hat, a jacket with a ski tag, a couple bags, a water filter (he gets a few points for this one) and a dress shirt folded up on his bed.
And then under his bed, there is a large white furry thing.
I have no idea what it is. It could be a jacket, but who would wear that for a jacket? It could be a rug, but I don’t want it sitting on my floor, scaring me all the time. I could be a living thing that is asleep and I’m afraid to turn my music or TV too loud for fear it will wake up.
It’s scary, though.
What am I to make of this? Am I reading too much into it? It’s probably nothing to worry about, but from here, it certainly looks like something I should worry about. The safest thing to do would probably be to set fire to it before he comes back or the furry thing wakes and swallows me whole. All I know is I’m deathly afraid of this kid, most likely a freshman, and I haven’t even met him yet. He could come in here and ask to trade beds, desks, closets, belongings or anything else and I would immediately do it with no questions asked simply out of the fear that he would unleash whatever dark power is in that white furball sitting under his bed without a second thought. It could kill me. It could wipe out the entire city.
Don’t worry, though. I understand my obligation here. I will do what he asks me. There will be no trouble. I won’t let millions die because of my own obstinacy. Just pray for me.
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