Friday, March 25, 2011

Living with a wanker.

I come home to a muffled sound slipping under my housemate’s bedroom door. After 3 minutes there’s an eerie, guilty silence, and the door opens. He is in a towel, smiling and hiding a fist full of tissues behind his back.

“Why don’t you just wank with your headphones in?”

“Hi to you too. I don’t wank with them in because I need to be spatially aware”, James says triumphantly, like he’s just conquered the Everest of erections. But I know for a fact his penis is smaller than a replica Kilimanjaro made from 8 matchsticks.

“What do headphones have to do with spatial awareness?”

“They inhibit it.”


“Well I need to know where my cock and hand are at all times. You know, let them communicate.”

If they did communicate, I knew what they would be saying to each other. I didn’t tell him this, but I was cognisant of the fact he thinks about my girlfriend while he’s wanking. In fact, recent investigation of his ‘search results’ found he’d typed in several lewd things mentioning her name: “Kate Nude”, “Kate Shower”, “Kate does James”. I didn’t want to ever bring it up.

“They don’t need to communicate, idiot. Usually it’s pretty easy. Just hold on to your cock.”

“Do you mind if I roll a smoke?”

“Are you going to wash your fucking hands before you impregnate my tobacco with a thousand retarded James'?”

“What the fuck’s your problem?”

“You wanking over my girlfriend, maybe?” Shit. Remain calm.

“Well, at least it’s not your mum.”

That’s true. It wasn’t my mum. Why would I be dating my mum? I’d be super pissed if he was wanking over my mum while I was dating her. Super pissed.

“You’re thinking about dating your mum again, aren’t you?”