Roommate Wars

It’s been 3 weeks and the sink is full of dishes, there’s a black ring around the bath tub, and the air stanks of Fritos and must. Face it, you’re in a roommate war. Most people freak out when under these conditions and eventually end up caving in to the pressure of an overbearing roommate. But today that all changes. After reading this simple self-help guide, you too can be the victor of your own personal roommate wars instead of being a chump.

 Blame it on a Scapegoat

If you’re living in a three or more man household, chances are there’s always gonna be one odd man out. Use this to your advantage (assuming you are not the odd one and if you are, fear not, I have something for you later). Start blaming things on the scapegoat, the coffee stain on the floor, the broken lamp, as long as no one can prove you did it then anything is fair game. The scapegoat can even be out of the house for the majority of the house meaning that most of the stuff he’s being blamed for isn’t possible for him to commit but because he so intensely despised, all logic will be thrown out the window. Be warned, use this method sparingly, overused it can blow up in your face and make you look guilty.

 Scapegoat’s Revenge

Ok, so you’re that unlucky bastard that always gets the blame. maybe sometimes it is you, most likely most times it isn’t who knows? You do. And if you’re innocent then revenge is probably the first thing on your mind. Since everyone in the house is against you, you need to bring in some back up. Assemble a team of your closest, wisest, most loyal friends and invite them over. Let em know that you’re out gunned and you need some tactical support in the form of blind piety. Invite em over and have em laugh at all your corny jokes, support all your whacked out philosophies and most important, denounce EVERYTHING negative your roommates say about you. it’s not gonna get you well liked but it’s always better to have a friend in the fox hole with you.

 Become One with the Filth

 In order to successfully combat filth you must first learn to live with it in harmony. In mastering this skill, dirt will no longer bother you because in time you will understand that you ARE the dirt. befriend the green mold living on your countertop, crunch the crust collected on your dishes with your bare hands , feel it, smell it, taste it. Once you can do this you will be ready for anything.

Be Crazier Then the Next Guy

Roommate culture is a lot like prison in the fact that if you’re too soft you’re gonna get run over. Being nice don’t mean shit in the pen or in the den. What you gotta do is walk the thin line between normality and insanity. Pay your rent on time but dissapear for days at random. Smile  politely when interacting with your roomates then randomly spazz out in violent outbursts. Basically be responsible enough to handle all the important aspects like rent but always keep em guessing as to what crazy shit you’re gonna do next. That way you’re normal enough to not get kicked out yet crazy enough to where no one wants to cross you.

Have a roommate situation that’s not addressed in this forum? Leave your complaint below and I’ll tell you how to get over.

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The Art of War: Facebook Edition

In anient times men handeld their problems by waging war. Those days were the kill or be killed days. A time when the notches on a warrior’s blade meant more to a woman than the coin in his pouch. Those days are gone, replaced instead by punk ass machineary and a corporate infastructre hell bent on political correctness. In these times duels are still dealt but no longer is it behind the barrel of a gun, no, todays duels take place behind the glow of a computer monitor.

These pasty-faced, japanime brainwashed, haven’t showered in 3 days warriors of today have mastered a new style of combat on a virtual plane. The medium? Facebook. Having conquered the battlegrounds of AOL chat rooms, Myspace, and Black Planet, Facebook is the newest land for online warriors to test their mettle. With  the ability to post pictures, video, music, and emoticons, the avenues for public embarrassment are almost endless. In this article, we will dissect the beast that is Facebook and provide you with a step by step guide to winning any flame war any place, any time. After reading this guide, elitists will cower at your every keystroke and trolls will be building YOU bridges.

1. Status Update Sissy Slap

Status updates are one of the most useful tools for Facebook fighting. There are many ways to use them but the most effective are for posting vague messages to a frienime on your friend list. By displaying this cryptic message, everyone else will be left confused but the one person you are having beef with will undoubtedly understand your subtle threat. This is a new age way of saying “Hey bitch, I heard what you said about me and you need to check yourself.” Because pissing in the dirt to mark your territory is so 1120’s Cro-magnon.

After displaying your warning, your frenime will be left with one of two choices, respond or ignore. The true Facebook master will ignore this meaningless threat, taking solace in the fact hat he has rattled you enough to make you write a threatening status update and walk away. The novice however will see this subtle threat and answer back with a status update of his own. Thus the war of status updates will begin. The status updates between the two parties will quickly become less subtle as the intensity increases and soon everyone on each person’s respective friends list will gravitate toward the public showing of buffoonery. In the end, the only person that wins in a status update war  are the people watching. Both combatants eventually come off as uncivilized jackasses and will leave people wondering if they came into this world as rape babies.

Join me tomorrow as we will discuss such stratagems as luring your enemy into a chat room and then ambushing him with cleverly hidden friends, creating a fake G.I.R.L. friend to make your crush jealous, feigning an illness/injury to gain sympathy when losing a verbal debate and other cowardly acts of combat.

How to Dump Your Girlfriend: The Douchedog Way

*Note – Today’s article written by Douchedog not to be confused with Coyote.

Don’t have the courage to do it the right way? Realized you made a horrible mistake and just wanna get outta that bitch as quickly as possible. Fear not junior-men, Douchedog has been there and he has just the program for you.

1. Be Distant: The Solid Snake Method

The first thing you want to do is distance yourself from your tragedy. If she can’t find you then she can’t see you and if she doesn’t see you then you’re technically not in a relationship, right? Right. Depending on how long you’ve been going out determines on how much effort you have to put into this first step. If it’s only been a few weeks then you’re in luck, the relationship is greener than baby shit so it should be easy for you to give em the switch.

For all you unlucky bastards that have been stuck for months then your partner by now already knows your entire routine which probably includes sitting on your ass from morning to noon playing Call of Duty, taking a quick break to eat and shit (gotta take care of your bowels! ^_^) and then sitting right back on your ass to finish up that Call of Duty.  You my friend need to shake it up to the max. Start hanging out in spots you usually wouldn’t be found, like the park. Try going to a restaurant for your nachos instead of 7 Eleven. Simple things like this can really score you some good stealth points. Hell if you really wanna go for max effect volunteer to go places with her and then randomly disappear on her ass not to be seen for 2 weeks later. They love that. Remember not to answer your phone, it adds to the mystery. ^_^ Once you’ve jabbed her mind with your confusing disappearances, it’s time to throw in the right hook. 

2. Become Bizzarro-You

This next step should be enough to end most unhappy relationships. Now that you’ve mastered the Solid Snake Method, time to go in for the kill. Remember how you conquered your girlfriend? Being really nice, buying her flowers, “understanding her,” basically all the shit you’d never do if your dick wasn’t in the driver seat, well it’s time to undo all of that. Ev-er-y thang? EV-ER-Y- THANG.  By this point you know you’re already a  bitch by staying in a relationship you didn’t wanna be in 5 months ago so you should have no problem changing everything about your personality to make her hate you.

Start telling her how stupid that designer hat makes her look. “Do I look fat in these jeans?” “YES.” It doesn’t have to end with verbal abuse either. Non-verbal communication works better than words cause it’s just so awkward. Sit on a couch next to her, turn your head and just mean mug the shit out of her. Like really think of the most putrid, disgusting, dégout smelling fart your big brother/older cousin ever forced you to smell. Think about how hopeless and afraid you felt. Now transfer all of that energy into you penance stare. Look her straight in the eyes and just let it go.

3. It’s not you It’s me 

That’s right, it’s a classic for a reason. If for some odd reason your relationship as survived step 2 then you might as well bust out this line. It works every time all the time. I’m not gonna lie, it makes you look like a real stereotypical man-bitch but be honest with yourself, you wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place if you weren’t a genuine, grade A, monkey’s uncle, man-bitch. So don’t feel bad, you got your entire life to change but for right now you gotta mission to complete and soldier, when it comes down to the final hour a bitch has gotta do what a bitch has gotta do

Mysterious Case of the Limpy Penis 5:The Underground

Tired of the lies and laughter, I decided to forsake modern medicine and turn my sights to the only avenue that could help me…the streets. I made a deal with a femme. A real doll face. She was an acquaintance who I just met. Thick thighs, flowing ebony locks, and a smile to die for. We talked the talk and in under 5 minutes reached a conclusion. The package would take one week to ship. That’s 7 days of uncertainty, 172 hours of suspense. Here’s hoping I make it.

Mysterious Case of the Limpy Penis 4:Pimps with Degrees

Some time had passed since my poisoning. It was time to see a new specialist, one that went by the name of Bones. After stepping into Bone’s office he gives me his diagnosis, stress fracture in my shin. He told me I would have to undergo an MRI to get to the root of the problem. Like a true salesmen he tries to get me to buy a $60 boot to help me walk but I tell em to go fuck himself. Mentally of course.

Before he leaves I lay down the true reason for my visit. He tells me my problem is out of his control and to seek the wisdom of the one they call Urologist. At this point I have reached the apex of my dissatisfaction. $117 dollars, 2 wasted trips, 4+ hours of my time and gas money wasted with still no clear resolution. It was then that I remembered one of the greatest truths of life, you want something done right, seek council in the streets.

Mysterious Case of the Limpy Penis 3:The Poisioning

I woke up the previous day were  in a daze.  Popping three more pills and consuming a slice of cold, day old pizza, I sat on the couch to watch tv when my stomach began to twist and turn. It was as if a pair of strong, burly, hands was inside of me wringing out my intestines as if it were a wet wash cloth. Unable to bear the pain any longer, I let the bitch inside of me win and I take a nap.

I slept for an hour or so but the pain was still present. I hadn’t been gone from my hood long but already my cell was lit full of messages inquiring about my return. In the end my heart-strings were plucked at just the right frequency and I decided to go back. I felt a little apprehensive, I would be going back still a broken man but I had hope nonetheless that everything would work out. I guess a woman’s smile will do that to ya.

It wasn’t until after I returned to the “Wood” that I learned the truth of my stomach pains. I had been poisoned. The very substance that was supposed to cure me was in fact killing me. I reduced the dosage before it was too late but the fact that I was so close to death sent a shiver down my spine. Was it really my fault or had someone set me up?