Well, I have just now. Unsuccessfully, unfortunately...
You see, I live in a student dorm. 2 rooms share a bathroom. The guy next door, with whom I share the bathroom, listens to loud "music"... When I say "music", I mean gangsta' rap... when I say gangsta' rap, I mean GERMAN GANGSTA' RAP!!! Imagine sitting down comfortably on the toilet seat, and then a not-so-melodic voice announcing "expect the unexpected, muthafucka'" and "Fur meinen homies und niggaz, yo, das ist die scheize" or something equally profound...
I have slow bowels. I can't get it under 15 minutes if I've eaten nothing but steaks the day before, like I did. Imagine the chuckle you'd get when first hearing the aforementioned lines... and then the horror when the realization dawns on you that it's just starting, and it keeps getting worse...
You're probably thinking, why don't I just blast some good tunes from my own room to nullify that brain melting abhorrence? Well, I usually turn the media player of my choice down while in the can, cause loud music is not looked on kindly by campus security, and I wouldn't want them a'knockin' while in the can.
You might be thinking, why not confront the cocksucker next door or just beat the shit out of him, you're 6'4", that's got to stand for something. Well, first of all, the guy's an idiot. We've had a few "discussions" about hygiene (he leaves the bathroom a mess), and changing light bulbs when they blow instead of shitting in the dark and waiting for me to change them... And second, he's bigger than me. He's a student of what's called here "The Faculty of Kinesiology". Don't let the name fool you. It's a faculty on the university made just so that jocks would get a degree. Their courses are consisted of some basic anatomy (name 5 bones and organs) and physical therapy (setting the aforementioned bones if dislocated and addressing some minor injuries), but mostly of sports. Imagine a course called "theory of volleyball". It consists of a written exam of what you should and what you shouldn't do with the ball, and the sport's rules. The second part of the exam is a field exam, serving and hitting the ball inside the court. Oh, they say it involves some really hard physics, on the written part of the exam.
The faculty is a great joke material for all the other students in the dorm, but still, the damn jocks get more rooms than any other faculty in the university, because dorm privileges are based on the grade average, and surprisingly, they seem to maintain a good grade average. It's not rare you will be stuck behind a small group of them in the mess hall, discussing how their anatomy courses are as hard as that of the medical faculty, or new brands of protein supplements (you can often see them carrying big buckets of them around), and oh yes, politics, economy and other big subjects, as seen through the eyes of absolute morons!!! Oh, and they're far from modest, they consider themselves as "Crème de la Crème" of society. For sociologists, that must be an interesting chance for observation. For everyone else, it induces a particular light-headedness and a wish to decapitate yourself with a teaspoon.
Well, that's vented. After a few more hours of Hendrix and CCR therapy I should be just fine. But the scars will burn deep, I can tell you that.
Posted: 05/26/09 at 05:20 (608 views)