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  • Packing hell into a box

    Posted on September 25th, 2009 Cibo 4 comments

    So, I spent the last couple of weeks busy as shit trying to get things packed. It’s very hard for me to convey how momentous of a task that is. Before even embarking on this journey of shoving crap into my suitcase, I had to face the long menacing demon that has been a meddler in my escape from my confine for many moons. I had to first clean my goddamn room.

    messy room

    Not really that far off actually.

    “What? Are you some big fag or something? Who the fuck cares about your shitty room?” Oh, I agree with you in principal sir, but few rooms have been as bad. While I did not have any sort of biodegradable matter in my room, I did have lots and lots of crap. Layers upon layers of Economist’s, newspapers, fuck tons of books, random pieces of paper, DVD’s, video games, etc. all this making the floor something as rarely seen as a world summit without the police firing plastic bullets at rioters. The thing is about $50-$60 a month spent on buying books and crap within a time span of years creates all sorts of domicile disorder. And much like a fatty saying he’d exercise later as he keeps pounding down the deep fried snickers with powdered sugar topped with caramel sauce, or the US government trying to fix its egregious budget deficit by going further into debt, my room became a worse shithole.

    As a practice for every year since about….oh… 2004 or 2005. I’ve pretty much said, “Fuck it, I’ll clean this shit later”. Even then, I wouldn’t call the room spotless at that time. But before then, I was at least able to kept pace with the build up. Things really started getting bad when I started off with a “Fuck it, I’ll clean it after college”(this is right before I transferred from community college).

    After college, I took the LSAT, got the letters of rec and sent out applications to law school. Bidding my time before being wholly rejected by all laws schools based on my LSAT, I spent the year fucking around; mostly playing World of Warcraft and boxing while working here and there law clerking. I said, “Fuck it, I’ll clean my room when I fucking move out for law school”. I thought my application with good grades, amazing letters of rec and working with an attorney would carry my shitty LSAT. So yeah….

    Upon meeting failure, I started applying for jobs. “I’ll clean my fucking room when I get a job and move out”. However, because I took the year off, I had been disqualified for all paid internships and entry-level positions for new graduates. Super. In addition, it’s an uphill battle to convince people that a political science degree means anything. Granted, I know a good amount about biz and economics. So much so I would constantly gave my econ roommate shit for not remembering how to calculate the Keynesian consumption multiplier. But, given what retards I’ve seen in the major and what courses they have chosen, businesses have merit in considering the major worthless (Half the class dropped my game theory course the first day when they saw basic algebra). Too bad too since most of the political science concepts have been in use long before businesses went about rebranding them (AKA stealing).

    Corporate politics -–> Bribery and assassination

    Direct Response Marketing (Buy this) -–> Propaganda to go kill (insert group)

    Hostile Takeover -–> Raping and pillaging

    Dumbasses who use biz jargon to bullshit people––> Theocracies

    “CAN YOU FEEL THE SYNERGY WITH MY FOOT AND YOUR ASS? “

    So with all avenues for new grads closed, I figured I’ll just apply for the non-college grad starting positions. “I’ll clean my fucking room then” I exclaimed. I started filling out my applications last year around this time actually. I had started filling out about 4 or 5 applications to the major investment banks. I was like “I’m totally going to find a investment banking job lulz. THEY SHOULD BE TOTALLY FINE, they couldn’t have been dumb enough to have ALL their money in subprime mortgages or mortgage companies.”

    stock market fail

    Fuck….

    I looked at my desk full of half-finished apps and pushed them into the trash can. Next up, grad school!

    Oh wait, I failed the GMAT……. Hey, what’s this? A top European school, no GMAT? Fuck it, I’m out of here. I’m sick of LA anyway.

    So long LA, thanks for the Lulz (though usually at my expense)

    GO LAKERS!

    Shoes are always the first thing to fucking go in a riot aren’t they?

    Well, the future is the past, brought back to the future, but not as far, putting it in equilibrium with the flow of time yet far enough back so I can use past tense. Now, as I stood there looking at the hellish piece of work that had been crafted by years of apathy and gross neglect, I really didn’t know where to start since it looked like shit no matter which angle I looked at it from. But then, last weekend my friend who I hadn’t seen forever dropped by. Taking advantage of his visit, I utilized him for the only good reason to have friends, forcing them to help you move out.

    We spent like two full days and nights just cleaning shit up. Even after all this, the room is still not hundred percent clean, but its serviceable enough for me to begin packing. I should be able to finish cleaning/packing up within another day or two. I can actually see the floor, it’s fucking amazing. The only downside is either my friend or I threw away my breakaway cable to my SF 4 arcade stick so I had to order another one. But, in the end my room is mostly clean. Man, that’s so surreal.

    The other thing I was undertaking in parallel to cleaning/packing, was finding an apartment in London. Perhaps I should impart some wise words from the great diffuser of wisdom Mr. Carolla to my school.

    “Vagina to ass, not ass to vagina. It’s like going from high school to college, you don’t go back to high school after you finish college.”

    The school, whilst well-known in UK, is unknown to Americans. And accordingly, the financial aid department has no experience in servicing US student loans. I had to correct them several times on their self-proclaimed US regulations they put forth. Most importantly, the order of the loan approval goes:

    Program acceptance -–> Loan certification-–> HOUSING

    Instead of the US model:

    Program acceptance-–> HOUSING -–> Loan certification

    Why does this matter? The financial aid guy in charge of the loan certification used the standard government approved formula before I had my offer for school housing. Great, except for the fact post grad housing in London was an absolute rip off. I didn’t even notice I had a problem until I received the bill for housing on September 1th since no one in Britain moves their fucking asses until the last possible moment(I couldn’t even apply for housing until June). Using such paranormal skillz as elementary algebra, the math enlightened me to the fact that I was indeed fucked by a shit smeared cock. For the next three months, I had only fucking £65 left over for food.

    Faced with the choice of needing to recertify my loans for an additional $12,000 if I wanted to afford shitty student housing, I figured I could find more reasonably priced shitty housing on the private market. One thing I found quite quickly is that the Brits hate doing business with people on the phone/email and they can’t wait two weeks for a tenant.

    “Look I’ll pay the asking price.”

    “When you will be in London?”

    “In two weeks”

    “That’s pretty long, sorry mate, bye bye”

    It’s rather ironic that everything in Britain moves slow as fuck, but apparently they can rent out apartments by the week, which must be hell to administer.

    After finding a tentative apartment, I had to show the dude my acceptance letter and loan documents, which are fairly reasonable requests. Liking what he saw (the skool has street credit), he said, if no one takes the apartment by the end of the day it’s mine. At the end of the day he then pushed the deadline back to the end of Sunday. Then on Sunday, he didn’t respond to my emails so the deadline by de facto moved to Monday. Finally he told me the apartment was mine late Monday, about half a week after what he originally said it was supposed to be. We then made an agreement where the terms were set out and agreed to.

    Dude is entitled to finding the best tenant possible but when an agreement is made (there was both an oral and written offer and acceptance), you can’t just rein on your deal. I know this shit applies to English law because the Americans copied it.

    This week the landlord was again evasive to my emails. He took like almost a week to respond to my emails to set up a date to sign the contract. I figured something was of course wrong. Yesterday, he just emails me, “oh yeah that flat, it’s gone, sorry mate”. IT’S LESS THAN A FUCKING WEEK BEFORE I’M THERE. What is wrong with you people? You can’t wait fucking five days before I sign the goddamn documents and move in? I will move in completely within a day after I sign you tards!

    Fag pissed me the fuck off. I not being one to sit on my Angelino birth right to a lawsuit, sent him an email saying I would sue him for his breach of the accepted agreement, report him to the British letting agency, and get him blacklisted from all the college housing offices. Even though, I may only follow through on the minimalist amount of my threats due to my extreme laziness, I can at least make the fucker stress the fuck out for the next week or so to the point he bleeds out of his anus. And if I fuck over his credibility with renters and colleges, other people won’t have to deal with his bullshit. Thus, by the heroic actions of Cibo, who gets no joy from his work dishing out revenge, certainly not, the world is a better place for all.

    britskynet

    Cheers mate

    Nevertheless, I’ll see how he responds to my statements. He is faced with a choice of either breaking his contract with me or the other tenet. Given that I can be a huge dick if someone treats me unreasonably, I would choose to break the contract with the other dude. Now this could lead to him being passive aggressive and trying to get back at me when I live in the apartment with poor maintenance and being a douche. But, then I would just complain to whatever tenant protection agency there is about that. The other option is that he backs down and does whatever I want since he’ll be scared as fuck of me. This would be the best outcome.

    In the end, I’ll probably find a new apartment. I don’t know how I could trust a guy that straight up fucked me in such a manner. So I may just carry out on a couple of my threats anyway. Depends if he acts like a dick in his replies.

    Needless to say, I probably would have dealt with all this shit earlier but I was playing the fuck out of Marvel vs Capcom 2 for xbox 360 and still would be if I didn’t lose my cable. Marvel on Xbox live is so ROFL. I hadn’t played the game forever but it’s like riding a bike, but said bike disconnects mid-game and calls you a fag for doing the Iron Man infinity on them. Sometimes I even sing about infinite’ing them over Live while I take the 2-3 minute to kill them with it (it’s demoralizing slow).

    Marvel is a game with one of largest disparities in skill between novice and expert. Besides execution, it’s also character choice. Only 8-9 characters are usable out of 48, and maybe a few more for assists. You pick a shit character you’re already behind. The restricted list of useable characters steams from the fact the game is so unbalanced some characters can kill you with one good hit.

    Anyway, I grew up playing all the Capcom games. By MvC2, the arcades were on their last legs and Cali had only couple decent places left (Golfland). While I wouldn’t say Marvel was my game since I was better at the more traditional Street Fighter games, I got pretty decent at Marvel because everyone around my area only played that. I also had the benefit of playing with THE Iron Man user Julius Jackson.

    Even though I would not profess to being able to beat the top players in Marvel, I would say I’m more than qualified to stomp on noobs. And I wouldn’t even mention my time playing Marvel if it wasn’t for the fact I’ve collected a rather extensive list of butthurt messages. Like my mailbox is completely full of “ur gay” messages sent to me.

     

    clip_image002 IxCUMSHOTZ clip_image003 fuck no go sumwhere… 9/17/2009 11:09 PM
    clip_image005 FREDDI CRUEGER clip_image003[1] fuck top tiers easy… 9/12/2009 1:42 AM
    clip_image005[1] FREDDI CRUEGER clip_image003[2] i know but its top 9/12/2009 1:14 AM
    clip_image005[2] FREDDI CRUEGER clip_image003[3] now it be impressiv… 9/12/2009 1:13 AM
    clip_image005[3] FREDDI CRUEGER clip_image003[4] cmon mn just like e… 9/12/2009 1:10 AM
    clip_image007 crackerjack1990 clip_image003[5] look at my achiveme… 9/12/2009 12:04 AM
    clip_image007[1] crackerjack1990 clip_image003[6] dude ur the biggest… 9/11/2009 11:57 PM
    clip_image009 Smithybroes64 clip_image003[7] learn 2 play right 9/11/2009 9:47 PM
    clip_image011 EvilestSeven clip_image003[8] what a bitch 9/6/2009 7:33 PM
    clip_image013 kumanzo clip_image003[9] ur a spammin faggot… 9/6/2009 11:45 AM
    clip_image015 GAME OVER IWI clip_image003[10] ur gay using ironma… 9/6/2009 11:22 AM
    clip_image017 A MACASPAC clip_image003[11] damn man your killi… 9/6/2009 11:16 AM
    clip_image018 pimporoni 1 clip_image003[12] ur gay 9/6/2009 9:54 AM

     

    Like half my games the dude just disconnects on me. Lot of times they start yelling at you about how unfair it is to be fried by Cable or unfly stomped by Sentinel. It’s so damn funny. I particularly liked the dude who tried to convince me he knew how to play Marvel better than me because he unlocked half his achievements in Gears of War.

    At any rate, I’m hoping everything works out in England. I’ll probably end up doing what usually happens and scramble like a directionally challenged retard trying to get everything in place when I get there. I’m hoping to get shit settled before “Fresher’s Week”, which from what I gathered is one long week of drunkenness. I’m also looking forward to meaningful personal interactions amongst drunk English chicks.

    Looking for lulz

    X’s & O’s

    ~Cibo

    scared girl

    so scurred

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