Check it, ladies. My roommate’s home.
What’s up.
Hey, Dustin. How was school today?
School?
Look at all that dirt on his big-boy slacks. He must have been rough-housing at the playground. Were you rough-housing?
The f@#k? I’m twenty-four years old. I’m not in school anymore.
My god, look at that little face. I just want to put him in my pocket book and carry him around.
“Carry me around”? What the f@#k is your problem?
Hey! Watch that language around the ladies, son.
Look, I’m tired of all this “hey there little guy” and “can I cut your meat for you” bullshit. I’m a full grown man.
You’re right. You’re right. We were just having some fun. How ’bout a beer, roomie?
Sure. Yeah. I’ll have a beer.
Here ya go. ::hands him a “sippy cup”::
Aw, screw you guys. ::storms off down hall into bedroom and slams door shut::
Wow. He’s awfully scrappy.
I blame it on MTV. All those “Li’l Wayne” videos…
::in bedroom, dials phone:: Dad? It’s me. Yeah, just wanted to let you know I might come home this weekend. Jacoby’s startin’ to get on my nerves.
Oh yeah? Well when you win Rookie of the Year, you can tell all those motherf@#kers to kiss your ass. Just hang tough, son.
Heh. Good point, Dad. Good point.
::meanwhile, downstairs::
Sounds like our neighbors upstairs are at it again. That little guy’s a real handful.
Hey, f@#k you, princess!
