Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Sartre Was Right On



Hell is definitely other people.
Namely, whoever the fuck lives above me. There's guys for sure and a couple of girls. The girls are forever bitching and causing drama by getting into shouting matches with their boyfriends on the phone with the windows all open for everybody to hear. Naturally, because I keep my window open I'm invited to the breakup party which is really more amusing than serious.
Less amusing is the fact that everybody who lives up there has decided that when they blaze (which they do often and I couldn't give less of a shit about) that you gotta play some Bob Marley on the stereo at an eardrum shattering level. Christ that's original to listen to. I think it's like a requisite at this point for every college student to have a "deep experience" with Bob Marley or The Doors or that overplayed Rufus Wainwright song while stoned.
This is not nearly as bad as the copious Lil Wayne that must follow afterward.
Right now, a guy is playing acoustic on his guitar singing Kanye West's "Heartless." I shit you not. He sounds like a douche and keeps repeating the chorus. Ugh.
I have to go to class now. An excuse to leave behind the crappy singers and dramarama inducing yelling matches? Oh joy!

Love to you all,
Heather

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