Okay. So. My roommate has been seeing this guy for six months, and even she’ll tell you that his only redeeming quality is not being bald. Seriously, only a lobotomy would fix him. This is an evil-ass man. So last time he was over, I told him that he needs to keep his lying, two-timing, no-good, De-Neve-slop-loving, dirty, broke, bitch-ass out of our dorm. But when I got home today, this guy was crying over LS7C homework in our room, like the pathetic whelp he is. This was like his thirtieth strike, and he knew damn well that I was fresh out of patience. If he’s going to practically live in our room, he needs to at least pull his weight and take out the trash. It’s mostly extra small condom wrappers anyway. Yeah, David, I know about your micropenis. Go write another shitty poem about how much I hurt your feelings. Bitch.
Well, Mary Wollstonecraft didn’t need to write her Declaration for me to know that if a man doesn’t listen to you, you have the god-given right to weaponize your chompers. And I did not wear headgear for all of middle school just to take a light nibble. I paid for carnivore teeth, and I’m gonna use them: right on his elbow where it’s easiest to hit bone. He was weirdly slimy, though. Worse, he was kind of into it, and asked if I wanted to be their third afterwards. As if I would get anywhere near his compsci-ass-ass posture and dead, unblinking eyes. He’s like if a fish was granted consciousness, but only when it comes to bad sex and being evil. He ran off to go whine to our RA, even though his dumb-ass doesn’t even live in Rieber 4, and now she’s calling my actions “misconduct” and “a gross violation of our community agreement.” I think this was just girls supporting girls. And if you were a true feminist, you would think so too.