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What I think hell would be like, if hell were a thing

July 6, 2011

In hell, you wake up every morning and feel like you did a bunch of coke the night before, the kind with that stuff in it that makes your ears rot off.  And your ears are rotting off.  And all your hell clothes have period stains on them.  Because you’re always on your period.

You live with a rotating cast of disgusting 19-year-old boys who sing in a variety of god-awful cover bands. Your current disgusting 19-year-old roommate is in a band called Lamp Basket and they only do Limp Bizkit’s cover of ‘Faith’ and they practice it every day for hours. Your last roommate was in Godsnack and he often had very loud skype sex with his Myspace girlfriend.   So they’re all fucking awful and gross – so gross – but somehow they’re always in the one shower in your apartment?  Every morning in hell, you wake up from your cocaine non-sleep having to pee, but your roommate is taking a shower.  You briefly consider peeing in your kitchen sink, but then the shower turns off.  So you wait, thinking roommate’ll come out any second but then he just stays in there and stays in there and stays in there. So that’s your roommate sitch in hell.  Oh! You always have to pee really bad and have to wait hours to go.

Everyday in hell, you have the same commute to work.  Every single day, you get to the hell train station as the train pulls away, then the demon on the intercom rasps, “All the trains are dead, so you have to walk” and you can hear the daemon gnashing his teeth or whatever it is demons do (moan?).  So you start your journey on foot, except in hell people always walk in front of you but only slightly slower than you, and when you try to pass them, they speed up.  And on your walk to work in hell, you realize that you forgot to cut your pinky toe nail. Your too-tight shoes are scrunching your feet together and your gross, sharp, long pinkie toe nail is cutting into its neighbor toe.  You can tell that your hell socks are getting bloody.  And so you make it to your job in hell.

You work at a radio station, and you have misophonia.  At this radio station, the DJs over-salivate and you can hear everything that’s going on in their putrid little mouths – it’s all amplified by their mics. They chew bananas and hack their lung mucus into their mics.  They sniffle and sneeze and sound cotton-mouthy.  And here’s what your job is at the radio station: you and 15 saliva-y hell DJs, who have varying degrees of literacy, sit around in a circle and take turns reading paragraphs from Who Moved My Cheese.  For hours. They use mechanical pencils that squeak.  They eat all your hummus. They make bad jokes.  Their breath smells like cigars.  Your boss is the devil, but he’s a real sweetheart.

You make the same hell commute back to your shitty apartment, where, to your surprise, a new 19-year-old pieceofshit has moved in.  He has covered the walls in Thomas Kinkade paintings and Anne Geddes photos.  He tells you he’s a “self-taught philosopher and psychologist and knows a lot about life”.  He also tells you he’s in a reggae Jars of Clay cover band called Jah-Jars of Clay, and he hops in the shower just as you realize you have to pee.  You get into your hell bed and realize there are toast crumbs and pubic hairs (neither of which belong to you) all over your sheets.  You shake out your sheets and walk into the kitchen to find your roommate eating cottage cheese with his bare hands (all your roommates have done this). Feeling understandably gross, you decide to take a shower which, obviously, is cold, and as you step out you step into a pile of cat litter. The end.

Anyway, I had a day book-ended by horrible transportation issues, but I just had to remind myself that life could get much, much, much, much, much worse.  I could have a roommate who plays in Primal Ice Cream.  Or I could be suffering from something awful.  I am a terrible brat. WILLIAMSBURG PROBLEMS, AM I RITE?

[photo via]

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4 Comments leave one →
  1. Ryan permalink
    July 6, 2011 10:22 pm

    Well, I guess it would be nice to have a roommate yell “GET THE FUCK UP!” as an alarm clock.

  2. July 9, 2011 5:23 am

    hell or brooklyn….. same compared to TX. altho, hell can be tyyte

  3. July 9, 2011 8:39 pm

    i like primal ice cream

  4. September 23, 2012 9:56 pm

    misophonia…my middle name.

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