Monday, December 2, 2013

Millenial Novel prologue

My brother gave me the idea for this novel, and as it's based on my life experience it's super easy to write. It will be about my spoiled life style and wacky hijinks. This pretty much sets it up, and this is all I will post on here. I do want money from it, and I'm tossing around pseudonyms to write it under. This is what I've churned out so far. I'll write this and my WFD novel over Xmas break, since I need some vague structure in my life.
                                                                                                                                                      

Prologue
   I was sitting in my car on the first day of the spring semester, with that horrid soul crushing bitch that I had long since lost interest in caring about spoke, “doesn’t it feel like we’re friends instead of dating?”  I replied,” No, it feels like you’re an inhuman monster whose sole dedication in life is to destroy my happiness and make me miserable, I’d consider you an antagonist at best and soulless cunt at worst.” She cried, I was so sick of those crocodile tears, and gave me some excuse about how she takes out her unhappiness at me because she doesn’t know what to do with her life. What a prize she was! Still, I could finally cut that bitch out of my life, and regain the happiness she had taken.
                Satan, as I will always affectionately refer to her as, had been my girlfriend of over three years. The first two years were pretty good, but around the third she became depressed, and was miserable to be around. She refused to ever see a doctor, and resigned herself to alternating between being a melancholy lump, and a complete bitch. As we stopped having sex, and she got fatter and less attractive, even gaining a happy trail and nipple hair (disgusting!), she kept bringing up the topic of marriage. I believe this was akin to a man clinging to life preserver in the middle of the ocean. I was never going to marry her nor have kids. I hate kids, and I’m like the ocean, and you can’t tie down the ocean.
                To complicate the mess with Satan, we were living together in an apartment. This was easily the most miserable point in my life. I had essentially paid for everything; I made mint selling Digimon merchandise and Dragon Ball Z toys. I spent half on Transformers, and half moving out. It was something I had never wanted to do anyway, but she claimed this would fix our relationship. It really couldn’t get any worse, and I hadn’t had any positive feelings toward her in longer than I could remember, plus I figured I’d try to live the life normal people do.
                Living together was the stuff of bad sitcoms; she was the stereotypical fat bitchy housewife. Essentially I did everything around the apartment; while she only got up from her ass groove on to criticize the way I did everything. I would be cleaning, or doing dishes, and that fat unshaven slob would waddle up to me and say “you’re doing it wrong; this is how you do it.” I would tell her she only knew how to mindlessly browse Facebook, watch Roseanne, and get fatter. Then I would tell her that her ass groove was getting cold without her lard. I will never hate someone half as much as I hate that cunt.
                We had four animals, three ferrets that I hated, and a Hitler cat named Beans. Beans was loveable, but extremely annoying. At around 5 a.m., he would scream at me to feed him, and the fatass next to me was incapable of taking care of herself, so it always fell to me. Still, this was nothing compared to the ferrets. She had convinced me to get them for her, and then promptly left all the care to me. I felt bad for them, so I did the best I could. However, they are high maintenance bitches.  A ferret poops every four hours, and I had three ferrets. That means each day they pooped more than a human, and would never once make it anywhere near their litter box. They would often shit around the apartment, and Satan refused to do any sort of cleaning.
                Satan decided one day to become a vegan, and that I would become one with her. This was equivalent of asking a man to defy gravity every day for the rest of his life. I had been living on a steady diet of whole milk, Dinosaur chicken nuggets, and greasy sausage sandwiches. I tried it for a month of two, and felt like I was dying. I had no idea what to eat other than candy and cereal. Cereal with that shitty soy milk was akin to dousing it in bleach. At least the bleach might have killed me; there was an element of hope there. The soy milk just left a bad taste in my mouth. I had three cavities from this awful calcium deprived diet, and felt like shit every waking moment. Coupled with cohabitating with that fat cunt, life was miserable. I ended up on Prozac just to deal with everyday life.
                The breaking point for everything was the end of December. She had been talking to some vegan hipster, and I was fine with it. I really wanted everything to end, but I was afraid to do it myself. At that same time, I came down with the flu and bronchitis at the same time. All that worthless mess would do is scream at me for being sick, and tell me to stop being lazy. I was freezing all the time, and couldn’t eat. She used this as another reason to scream at me. It had long been over in my mind, but this solidified my need to bring it to her empty head.
                I felt instantly better once it was over. Sure I had to live with that miserable human, but it was temporary. The problems were still there, but I would soon be rid of them, it was just a matter of biding my time.  Now that we weren’t dating, it was time to get back in shape, and start doing what I wanted. I was never home during her waking hours, usually spending long hours at the gym, and then going to mooch food at my parents’ house. She would text me the whole time (she had no car, so she was forced to mope around the house) and I would never respond. I know the break up hit her hard; my brother’s mother in law was her boss. She kept spacing out and making mistakes at work over the next few months. I however was empowered with a new zest for life.
                We both were in the same math class, which she later failed out of due to her low intelligence, and we went shopping one day after school. She remarked about going to Bed Bath and Beyond, and trying to be civil I said fine. She kept asking me for opinions, and fed up I said “I’m never going to see you again, and couldn’t care less about your room décor. Fuck you.” She moved out later that day. It was lonely living in that apartment for the two weeks before I moved back in with my parents, as she took the cat, but all I had to do was make it through this and the sweet man-child lifestyle was mine!
                I ended up cleaning the entire apartment myself, when I asked if she would help, she replied “all you have to do is dishes, God why are you so useless?” If she had been standing a few feet closer, I would have probably thrown her through the fucking wall.  My brother came up to help me move, and it was of course one of the coldest days of the year. It took a good two hours trying to get my couch from one end of the house to the next, due to my dad being a hoarder. That’s covered in my other novel, WFD: World Funniest Dad, though there will inevitably be some cross over.  It took me quite some time to set up all my toys, books, and posters, but I was finally back where I started.  There was nothing I wanted more.
                I only had a few dealings with Satan afterwards; we ended up paying rent on the apartment til May, which solidified my hatred for her. I got back $300 from my $900 security deposit due to those fucking ferrets destroying everything. Satan didn’t mind, I fronted the entire deposit. The other dealing involved her website, a shitty half assed blog that she thought would make her rich. As with every other idea she had, after spending plenty of my money she abandoned the idea after a week, after begging me to spend $400 on a camcorder, and convincing me to pay for half a domain name. Since she had the brains and planning abilities of a child, she opted to automatically renew it every 6 months while signing up. Her PayPal account linked to my bank account was hit with multiple charges totaling $200. Naturally I sent her multiple angry texts, calling her a thief and an immature child, saying I would file for fraud or tell her mother about it if she didn’t pay me back. Her logic was that because we were dating when she created the site, It wasn’t a big deal that I was charged. What did I see in this girl other than a fuck hole? Nothing I guess, the rest must have been an illusion.
                In any case the apartment was rented out in May, and I free! The last time I saw her in person was March, and the last dealing with her was in May via text. This is where the story of a millennial, also known as the lost generation begins. What follows is probably true, and I feel is an accurate description of my lazy self-absorbed life style.   

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