Me and Bitchface McGee

So I got a new housemate.

Her name is BitchFace McGee.

Okay, that's not her real name. But it sure as hell fits her better than whatever her real name is.

She moved in here into the extra room last Thursday, round 9 in the morning. Now the reason I can be super specific with this is cause I was at the kitchen making honey glazed carrots for breakfast. That's right, I make fancy healthy, vegetable dishes for breakfast.

Yes, I am more awesome than you. Let it go.

So the story goes on, I was cooking and someone begun unlocking the front door. Then she came in...and this is literally my first sight of her:

Both hands full of stuff, a cigarette hangin of her lips reminiscence of the Landlady from that Stephen Chow's movie, and beer belly sticking out of her shorts. Like her shorts were falling of her, what assume is her hips, and her gut was just sticking out for the whole world to see.

It wasn't pretty.

And woman just walked in the house, guts all hanging out and not saying anything at all to me. Like I was completely invisible. I was so shocked, all I could managed was;

“I'm sorry, what?”

And then she looked over, gave me a once over, and then went:

“Oh I'm moving in here. Do you live here?”

Ummm...no dumbass. I randomly brake into peoples' houses and make fancy breakfast using their stoves.

“Um, yeah.

“I'm Michelle*.

“CD. Where's you're from?

“Britain. But my boyfriend lives in house number 9, that's why I'm here.”

How is that related?

God, everything about her was trashy. Like just white trash you know. I mean maybe I was being judgemental and shit...but if you came in waltzing into people's house without even a hello and your beer belly sticking out.....I'm just gonna make the assumption that you are indeed, a white piece of trash. Also, she reminds me so much of Vicki Pollard from Little Britain, it is insane. Not the way she talks...but the way she looks. And huney, that is not a good comparison.

So that was the first encounter.

Then that night her boyfriend came to help her moved in. They had a lot of shit so I was like “Oh do you need help with that?” and I just kinda helped carry some stuff inside the house. Not much but I figure since we gonna live together, might as well play nice. While I was carrying one of the stuff, I was like “Oh this is quite heavy” and her boyfriend, whom I met but 5 seconds ago went oh “Michelle keep her sex toys in that” like all jokingly.

Right. I just met you. I just met your gf this morning. And you are already making a sex joke with me?

Classy.

When I woke up the next day, the front door of the house was opened, so I closed it. Then a little while later, it was opened again and I figured out it was her and she's didn't close the door behind her. And the same shit went on for like 3 days, woman just went waltzing out of the house and leaving the front

door just.....opened. I mean...what kind of a fucking idiot leaves the house without closing the door? It is not a tall order people. Close the door after you fucken leave. It is pretty basic. I mean...wtf? It was weird. So when I saw her next I was like

“Hey Michelle, do you mind closing the door when you go out?

“What?

“When you leave the house, close the door behind you.

“I didn't?

“No, you didn't. And its been goin on for days now.”

“Oh.

“So close the door after you, okay"

I said all politely and nice and the woman replied

“Yeah yeah yeah” in that annoying dismissing way and literally just walked away.

Fuck. This is karma. When I was a teenager, I talked like that to my mom aaaallll the time. Fuck man, this is definitely karma. It was infuriating. I kinda wanted to fly back to Malaysia at that exact moment and beg my mom for forgiveness and be all like

“I'm sorry mom!! I'm sorry for being such an infuriating piece of shit! Please forgive me! Pleaseee! I've learned my lesson from this piece of white trash I'm forced to live with!!!”

However, me being me, wouldn't let that slide. So I slammed the door behind her. I just slammed it. Perhaps I shouldn't have done that...but if bitch thinks she can just walk away mid conversation with me, she better think again. If she wanna play this game, I could play this game. I could play this game better than she ever could.

And after that we just ignore each other inside the house. Just plain ignorance. No “hey”. No “How are you?” Nothing. It is weird. She hasn't even been here a week and she already made an interesting fodder for conversations. And the thing is, when she met Leigh for the first time, she just looked at her and then walked back into her room. I mean, wtf? You gonna live with us but you don't even acknowledge us? Weird right?

She has friends all the time, in her room but I'm so weirded out that she made no effort to get to know the people that lives with her. It is weird. Like she just came in, decided to be outright rude to people she is living with and that's it. I'm not saying we all should be best friends but civilized at least? But I wouldn't know...I'm not well-versed in white trash culture.

It is still not a problem...for now anyway. She's rude but she's not obnoxious. So far, the house is still clean, her friends are confined into her room and she's not in my face. If she is, well...she'll find out.

Looking forward to that actually. 

Cutting it close

I gave my 2 weeks notice yesterday.

 

I’m moving out of this shithole in 6 days.

 

I have no boxes. No movers. No car. No new address to move to.

 

 

My final exam starts on Thursday the 18^th, finishes on the Saturday the 20^th, my moving date is Monday the 22^nd and flying back to Malaysia, 11am flight on Tuesday….the 23^rd.

 

 

No exact plan. And yet I have never been happiest in my entire time that I have been in Aussie.

Finally I will be moving out of this shit house, away from the definitive embodiment of an asshole that is my creepy as fuck housemate. The shit I have to endure in this house is unbelievable. And chill, I will go into explicit detailing of the fuckery that is living in this house under his villainous reign as soon as I am out.

 

 

My things are going to be sent to my friend’s place. She has her own house so I’m gonna store everything at the garage and hope to God that rats don’t get to it. Even so, rats are much better then living here. I loathe living here. I cannot even begin to explain the extent of my despise of living in this shithole. And part of me cannot stop blaming my parents who made me stay here. It was their choice and yet I’m the one that had to endure 4 months of creepy fuckery. Wasn’t even my motherfucking choice and I was the one that had to sleep with a fucking knife under my pillow cause there’s no lock on the door and my housemate is a creepy, stalking fucktard. I’m the one that has to engage in a yelling, sarcastic, snide fights day in and day out. How easy they were bought in by his “Good boy” play and how bullshit it is that I have to pay for their naivety.

 

 

Parents don’t know shit. And it’s always the kids that have to pay for the wrongs they did.

 

 

But I don’t want to talk about it now. Too much quite, burning hatred is not good for the soul. I will though, just not now. Too much anger now.

 

 

However the reason why I am cutting it close with the moving and all is that I absolutely cannot, will not and I plain out refuse to go back to Malaysia, and then fly off to Finland to visits my sister and then come back to Aussie and see his fugly mug. I will be sooo fucking happy and relax and come back and see his face. I cannot deal with that shit man. I much rather be cutting it close. When I come back here again, I will start fresh. Find a new place and other housemates to bitch about. Or maybe to like too.

 

 

I dunno for sure. All I know is that I never wanna come back to this shithole.

So wish me luck with the packing and the exams. The next time I’ll blog would most probably be from Finland, where I will be staying for 20 days with my sister whom I have not seen since last Sept. That alone is enough to get me through the next 6 days with a smile on my face.

 

 

Ta.

Russian whores, anyone?

Anybody knows where to get cheap whores in Aussie?

No, seriously.

Cheap whores. I have been looking online but they’re kinda out of my price range. I need one for Mr. Clean. After a short discussion with friends, I have come to the conclusion that the reason why he is such a mothefucking pain in my ass with his extreme control issues is cause he is not getting laid.

Dude needs to get laid. Like desperately. And soon. Cause he is irritating me like fuck. The other day he walked into the kitchen while I was making potato soup and I had an almost uncontrollable urge to whack him over the head with the ladle. I even have the whole thing played out in my head. I would whack him with the ladle and when he goes “CD! What the hell did you that for?!!” in his country hick Aussie accent, I will let out a demented laugh and whack him again. Just for kicks.

He once told me that he thinks Russian chicks are hot. Seriously, exact words:

“Russian chicks are hot!”

Fucker said that when I was drinking okay. I almost choked to death. However now that we have narrow it down to the fact that he thinks “Russian chicks are hot”, it makes my search even more difficult. I mean where the fuck am I supposed to find Russian whores in Aussie now?

Honestly people, where?!!

I cannot stand living here okay. I mean don’t get me wrong I like it here. It’s walking distance to Woolies, the library, groceries stores, a pharmacy and hair saloons. It’s great. It’s very convenient for me. But lately I have been walking in straight between Mr. Clean and Dissapeara arguing. Do you know how awkward it is to walk in into 2 people arguing with each other? You try to be inconspicuous but you can’t cause you’re holding 2 bags of groceries and you need to put all the wet stuff away as soon as possible. So I was there in the kitchen as they go at it in the living room.

Awkward.

That’s the first time, the second time I was in the kitchen fixing myself a sandwich when Mr. Clean came down for a drink. Then Dissapeara came home from work. Then they started arguing again. And this time I was literally in the middle. Them bitches were at either side of me. I mean, seriously. What the fuck? Are you people fucking kidding me?

I think these 2 bitches just need go ahead and fuck each other and get it over with. Just fuck already. There is a sexual tension in this house and my parents have walked me right into it by making me stay here. 

Uhhh hey guys....can you guys take that somewhere else? Kthxbai.

They argue cause they can’t fuck each other. I’m hoping that they just would cause that would give me peace of mind. But then you know….God if they do start fucking each other then it would be so awkward for me. What if they do it on the couch? Eeeewwww…then I cannot sit there and watch TV anymore.

Not there you bastards!!!!

So that bring us back to the Russian whore. Where do I get one? I’ll take her home with me. “Hey Chris! Look a Russian chick…..you like? You liiiiiike?” If he asked I can just say that I stumbled on her when I was wondering in some dodgy back alley without any sense of purpose. Innocent mistake…..happens to everyone.

So if any of you know where to get a Russian whore in Aussie- hit me up. I need to get him laid before I start having thoughts of whacking him with my giant loofah instead.

This is an anticlimax. My bad.

There’s a possibility that my asshole housemate is an evil genius.

 

So picking up from where I left last, I was all gearing up for an argument with Le Fucktard- I was just waiting for Tanya to leave the house. I gave it an hour so round 10pm I left my room to go knock on Le Fucktard’s door so that we can have our “talk” and guess what, fucker wasn’t home. No dude, seriously. His bedroom’s door was open and so was Tanya’s. I wasn’t satisfied so I went downstairs to check the laundry room just in case he was cowering behind the washing machine or something….but nothing. I was home alone.

 

 

Fucker ditched me.

 

 

Dude, I was even more pissed at that point. The fuck. You do not leave the house when I wanna yell at you. You just don’t. Period. I was so pissed I took out the frozen chocolate cake from the freezer and started eating. Emotional eating yo. Do you know how frustrating it is to look forward to yelling at someone and finding out the fucker wasn’t home? Wah, damn frustrating okay. I went to bed angry that night.

 

 

But I didn’t get a real good sleep cause my throat have been sore for the last few days. I think the frozen chocolate cake was the last straw cause I was pretty much coughing and clearing my throat all night long. Then at about 2am there was a knock on my bedroom’s door. I know it was 2am cause I go to sleep with my mobile phone okay. At first I thought I was hallucinating and then I heard it again. The knock.

 

 

On my bedroom’s door.

 

At 2 in the morning.

 

 

At first I thought “Oh, NOW he wanna have the talk? Fucker.” Then it occurred to me that people don’t talk at 2 in the morning. Which bring me to the next logical explanation in my still drugged with sleep mind- he’s outside my door. With a knife. And the moment I open the door he gonna stab me cause he is a psycho and he is pissed with me. Dude, I totally woke up at that point. I was like “Shit! Shit! I have no exit strategy! Ohmygod ohmygod! The window has bars on it…..maybe if I kick it really hard I can still get away.” And then he knocked again.

 

 

There’s nothing else I could do but to open the door. I opened it slowly and he was standing there, but instead of holding a knife to stab me with….he was holding a bottle of cough medicine. I stared at him.

 

 

“Hey, I was downstairs watching the TV. I can hear you from down there. You sound pretty bad.”

 

I just stared at him.

 

“I got this cough syrup. It could make you feel better.”

 

Even in my paranoia induced mind I realize something: "This fucker is goooood." Oh man, he gonna be one smooth ass lawyer.

 

So I was like “No, I’m okay. My mom gave me like a whole bag of medicine before she left. So yeah, I got it covered.”

 

“You sure? Do you need Strepsils or something? Cause I think 7/11 is still open. I can go get it for you.”

 

Oh yeah….he is goooooood.

 

“No, I’m good.”

 

So we just stood there, staring at each other. Me still dry coughing, he in all his evil mastermind glory. And I did the only thing I could. I gave him his chocolate bunny. You see, it’s Easter now and there are chocolate bunnies all over the place. About a week ago I bought 2 chocolate bunnies for him and Tanya, as a gesture of goodwill. This was before the whole not-cleaning-after-himself-fuckery. I already gave Tanya hers but because I was pissed with Chris, I decided that I am not gonna give him his bunny. I’m gonna eat it myself. Fucker won’t be getting any bunny from me. But the hell, he was standing there at 2am with cough medicine okay.

So I gave him his bunny.

 

“Oh thanks CD. Do you celebrate Easter though?”

 

“No, but you do. Enjoy your bunny. I’m gonna try go to sleep now. Nites.”

 

So I went to sleep again, not knowing whether I should be happy that I am still alive and not stabbed to death….or be wary cause my asshole housemate is an evil mastermind.

 

 

Damn, dirty fish thief

Man it’s been a week since my last update. I am a really horrible blogger these days. I am up to my eyeballs with readings and assignments. The fuck man, Australia is crazy. I thought the workload was a bitch back in HELP but daaaaayum, HELP was chicken shit compared to this. Even as I am typing this I have an assignment due tomorrow. I haven’t even begun typing it out but I have done the research. So after typing this post I am gonna procrastinate some more by tidying my room and blog surfing. Cause that’s how I roll.

 

 

Mr. Clean irritates me. Well not constantly but he’s such a moody weirdo that it is fucking irritating. Have you met someone whose face seems it’s set in concrete and that it seems impossible for them to smile? That’s him. Sourpuss McGrumpy Face. It’s like living with Grumpy from the Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Only he is not a dwarf. If he is I would have kicked him down the stairs long time ago. And then go down the stairs and kick him some more just for the hell of it.

 

 

He’s not a bad guy. Just too damn serious. It’s like he sucks out the mood of the room everytime he comes in. Before he arrives it’s like rainbows and birds chipping in the distance and Clive Owen were just about to leave his wife for me…but when he does arrive its like Death! Gloom!! War!! Completely suck the life out of everything. If he wasn’t studying to become a lawyer, he could have a steady job being one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. The fifth one that makes everyone else as gloomy as he is.

 

 

But the whole reason of this post is basically cause I am pissed.

 

 

Dude ate my fish. I bought one of those microwave dinner thingy right. Fish fillet thingy. Undeniably it will taste like crap but I am in no mood to cook tonight. I had 4 classes today, that’s 8 hours of class and then I stayed back for 3 more hours to do research at the library. I thought hey when I get home I’m just gonna eat that and then do my assignment and go to sleep. Thursday is a looong day for me. When I came home, my fish fillet was missing from the freezer. It was missing. The fuck? It couldn’t be my other housemate cause she’s vegetarian. It has to be him. So I went and knocked on his door and asked him about it.

 

 

He looked guilty as fuck.

 

 

“Ouuuu I did not know it was yours. I thought it was mine but I couldn’t remember buying that particular brand.”

 

“It’s mine. I have the receipt.”

 

“Oh wow. Oooohh I get you a new one when I go do my groceries shopping next time.”

 

“Sure. I guess I’ll just have apples for dinner tonight.” And then I walked away.

Bastard didn’t even said he was sorry. I didn’t eat apples for dinner though. I was just being dramatic and I want him to feel really guilty. Had instant noodles instead thanks to that fish thieving bastard.

 

 

Now I know this is not a big deal. And he is going to replace it. I know. But I had a long day, I am sick and tired of instant noodles and fried rice and I was looking forward to that completely unhealthy microwave dinner. Just damn irritating you know.

 

 

Update:

 

Mr. Clean just knocked on my door. He asked if I want a ride to uni tomorrow cause he got a car. He never asked me that. I think this is some sort of apology in his big shot law student vocab. I said no. Feel guilty you fish thieving bastard.

 

 

Update 2:

 

I hope he gets food poisoning tonight. Bastard.

 

Hey y'all, I'm getting my ass whoop. Yay!

I feel guilty. I feel like I am abandoning Dramatic Musings. I mean I used to do 3 posts a week like clockwork and now I can’t barely squeeze in a post a week or even answer comments. It’s not like I have nothing to write about. I have loooads. I have all this weird little details about Mr. Clean, I mean…he’s a creepy weirdo. Like seriously. Fucking weirdo.

 

Do you guys know of Ted Bundy? He was this murderer back in the 70es and he killed like 14 women but the thing is he was charming and such a gentleman that nobody suspected him. And then when he did get caught, there was all this books that come out written by his girlfriend and neighbours. About all the telltale signs that should given away the fact he was psychotic serial murderer. I feel like that living with Mr. Clean. I am not even making this shit up. I feel like…..years down the road I will be penning a book “My housemate is a serial murderer….and he makes me mops the floor once a fortnight” or something equally trashy.

 

 

What I’m saying is, Mr. Clean? Creepy weirdo. Trust me to get a creepy weirdo as a housemate. Could have gotten a hot surfer guy that prances around the house shirtless, but nooooo…..gotten a creepy weirdo, possible psycho murderer for a housemate instead. On the plus side, I made good with the neighbours. I have been here 2 weeks and I’ve already gotten tea and dinner invitations. In fact I just came back from my next door neighbour’s house. The lady’s a nurse and her housemate is this dude that works for a steel company. I dunno what he does really but they’re really nice and the Nurse Lady made lasagne tonight and she rang me up asking if I wanna join them for dinner. Fuck yeah I want to join. Free food maaan and it’s just next door. I don’t even have to dress up, just go there in my t-shirt and shorts and brought a bottle of Coke that I have in the fridge. Australians are totally laid back.

 

 

So yeah, I have loads to tell. I have all these stories bout getting lost in the city and walking 10 blocks up the hill just to find a bus stop. About getting hit on by some dude on the bus and he was soo annoying so I looked him in the eye and went “Sorrrrie. Mi speak no engrrish.” About getting lost in the campus and ran screaming my head off when a fucking lizard just appeared in front of my feet from a damn bush. That’s what you get when your campus is enclosed within a forest. About this girl who asked me if I believed in democracy, then block the door so I couldn’t leave and went on tirade for like 15mins on how “We as a nation, need to rise together and fight the power.” Then I told her that I’m not Australian and then she got confused so I used that opportunity to make a run for it. About getting talent scouted for some hippie radio channel that wants a new news reader “Hey! You’re international and you have a cute accent. Want to read the international news for us?” About this mixed up at the bank that they sent me 3 ATM cards at the same time. About my first time cleaning the bathroom (scrubbing the bathtub is such a goddamn bitch). About going on my first Australian bushwalking adventure and getting sunburnt. About salsa dancing with this Arab guy that kept trying to grab my ass. And especially this one story when I was at the campus café, sucking on ice and then one of the ice slipped and felt into my shirt and happily enough lodged itself between my boobs. It was fucking cold that it burns. I think I was screaming “Shit! It’s cold! My boobs” and then proceed to reach into my shirt to get the ice out. All this was happening while I was having lunch with this Taiwanese-Australian guy whom I just met and now every time he sees me he ask “Hey CD, wanna go for ice?” with a stupid fucking grin on his face.

 

 

Yeah…"great" start to the new sem in a new uni.

 

 

But the whole point of this post is to tell you guys that for some reason another, after a whole night of debating with my own self…I have decided to join a fitness class that will definitely get my ass whooped. I signed up for boxing class. Yeah dude, I totally did. And not any boxing class but “Intensive Beginners Boxing class”. I have always wanted to box for a totally stupid reason. Okay…..cause of a movie. How cheesy is that? No no, not Million Dollar Baby. It was actually this flop called “Kiss the Girls” staring Morgan Freeman and Ashley Judd. I saw the movie when I was about 15 and I’ve wanted to take up boxing since then. And now I’m in my 20s…that’s quite a long time to be wanting to do something. I just never got around to it cause I was afraid of getting punched in the face but then I thought hey man, I got all the way here on my own why not just go for it.

 

 

I’ve asked the instructor lady on why this is “intensive beginners” instead of “just beginners” and she went on with some boxing jargon that made no sense to me. But what made sense was “3 hours weekly training for 8 weeks” and “we’re keeping the class small so that we can concentrate on the intensity. Only 10 students at one time. No more. You’re number 10” and my favourite “Oh we’ll play nice in the first 5 weeks cause we’ll be ringside. But by week 6 we’ll move into the ring and there will be cuts and bruises”. I think there was a lapse in sanity on my part cause even after all that I still want to do it.

 

 

Then after signing up and paying the fees, she asked me why I wanna box. I could say cause Ashley Judd made it looked good in Kiss the Girls….but what I said was “I wanna do boxing cause I have deep seethed unresolved anger issues.” Which is true. I do have anger issues, that’s why I’m so bitchy. I was expecting her to laugh or something but she smiled and said “Aaahh, that’s the making of a great boxer.” I dunno whether that’s just a selling point or she says that to everyone but I’m looking forward to my first class next week. Maybe finally I can resolve my anger issues….. while getting my ass served to me on a platter. Ringside.