So, there is the aforementioned "turd". Such a turd.
I can't tell what pisses me off more, this turd, or him having me saying turd every 3 or 4 sentences now. Conceited fuck even has his name on his wall right above him. And look whats next to that. The mango in a top hat. I suppose there are a few redeeming qualities in the photo (i.e. shirt, lava lamp, studded belt from a former life..)but that can really only get a man so far. Now he's behind me, stroking his chin, staring intently at his laptop, giving off the idea he has something worthwhile to do. What I'm really not feeling right now is where I am currently situated trying to write this. Surrounded by well selected posters of wicked movies, music and the likes1(save perhaps a clumsy poster of Eugene Levy and the Olsen Twins). He just gave me a little spiel about his ineptitude. Totally shouldn't have listened.
Sidebar: I tried to find a synonym for clumsy in that last sentence (still not feeling it), and it came up with "all thumbs". Definitely need to start saying that.
1. Although, awkwardly within their midst was placed a rather creepy junior high shop wood carving of Maggie from the Simpsons with the word 'death' dripping dauntingly and red behind her. I have mixed feelings about this. Judge him accordingly.
-acorned
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