| Current mood: |  aggravated |
| Current music: | foxy lady - jimi jimi hendrix |
wowsers
gee wilickers, do I hate my roomate. Little does he know that at the exact moment he ratted me out to the cops, his life took a drastic turn for the worse. I have yet to begin with the heart of my sabotaging, and it won't begin until i move out. If anyone has any creative suggestions on how to deal with this rat bastard named NATHAN LANEY, please don't feel shy to enlighten me. In other news, im NOT evicted, which is really cool. And the thing that pisses me off the most is that while I was in jail for 2 days, he fucking stole one of my root beers. The man will pay...mark my words, his life is going to be considerably tougher.
p.s. i already plan on leaving a dead animal in his ventilation system the day i move out, and i already screwed his car to hell by adding a secret ingredient called sugar to his gas tank.
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