>>> Casual Misanthropy
By staff writer JD Rebello
April 25, 2004

I'm taking a vacation from writing this week, and am bestowing the responsibility of entertaining you ingrates every Sunday to someone very special to me. But first, I'm promising funnier columns in the future. I realize the quality has been sinking lately, and I can blame that on a number of things: school, drinking, bad weather, MVP 2004, not getting paid for this, etc. Listen, it'll get better, I promise. In the meantime, stop IMing me bitching about how I complain too much, how there's too much Red Sox talk, and how my writing carries a natural overtone of hostility to anyone who's not a white male exactly like me. I'm not changing. If you don't like me, go read the Canadian, he rips off my columns anyway.

Now, without further ado, this week's column, with special guest writer: JD's Penis. It's all yours, Penis.

Thanks, JD.

My name is Penis (although JD sometimes calls me Larry), and this is my diary. You think you know? You have no idea.

7:55 a.m. – JD wakes up, although I've been up since that Elisha Cuthbert-dressed-as-a-maid outfit dream his subconscious cooked up at sunrise. Naturally, this bitch overslept and he doesn't have time to alleviate me. Do you see what I go through here?

8:12 a.m. – God, that blonde girl in the fourth row is so hot. Of course, he's too much of a poon to go talk to her. Honestly, how hard can it be? Not as hard as I am. (Wow, I'm much funnier than JD is.)

9:23 a.m. – Why is he talking to that girl? She's not even that cute. I mean, she's attractive. But she's not blonde girl. He deserves for me to chafe up against his zipper for this. I guess he likes her with his heart and for her mind. Absolutely sickening.

10:11 a.m. – This is why me and Brain don't get along. It was Brain's idea to go to college, now we're stuck in the most boring class in the long sad history of boredom. I was content working as a janitor bangin' hookers every night. What can I say? I'm old-fashioned.

11:01 a.m. – I think I'll vote Kerry.

12:42 p.m. – First piss of the day. Feels good. JD's got this weird habit where he plays with his ass hair while he pees. Honestly, you've got to see it. It makes him shiver! He's such a tool.

1:31 p.m. – Hey, who's this girl he's talking to now? Oh, I've seen her before. They are JUST FRIENDS. Just friends. Blah. I swear to God, female friends are completely useless. All they do is piss him off and make him put pants on when they come over. If I ever come up with a way to fit into that PlayStation 2 in a comfortable way, he'll never talk to them again.

2:06 p.m. – Whenever I get bored sometimes I bust out “Random Ball Hurt.” I love doing that because he has no idea what's going on, but I just hurt for no good reason. He always ends up going to the bathroom to inspect them.

3:17 p.m. – Shhh. JD's napping. Dammit, there's that dream again. Yeah, dust the shelves, Elisha. Now, slowly unbutton your top….sweet Jesus!

3:19 p.m. – 3:26 p.m. – I've been waiting for this since early this morning.

4:46 p.m. – It really bugs me that JD doesn't get laid more. I mean, he's a nice enough guy. He's got a great sense of humor, his column notwithstanding. He's fairly attractive after about seven beers. He just needs to work on his confidence, I guess. Maybe I'll have a talk with him.

5:19 p.m. – I think he forgot to put soap on me when he showered before. And he wonders why I'm itchy all day.

6:36 p.m. – Is he watching Lizzie Maguire? What the hell is wrong with—oh yeah, this is the Hilary Duff show. Well-played, JD.

7:11 p.m. – Balls don't look so good today. They are just drooping there. Balls have it rough.

8:29 p.m. – Why is he always thinking about shaving me? I look fine, just a little hairy. Besides he's got a hairy gut and hairy legs, how stupid would that look? I'd look like a pubic Oreo. (You gotta think outside the box, people.)

9:53 p.m. – I love messing with JD. My size deviates from like ten inches to so small you'd think I'm growing on the inside. No wonder he cries all the time.

11:02 p.m. – Sometimes I think I could be attracted to men, but then I remember: JD's not a Yankees fan.

12:00 a.m. – He stays up awfully late. He doesn't even do anything besides look at fantasy baseball and eat TV dinners. If I were a little longer, I'd strangle him in his sleep. Put us both out of misery.

12:26 a.m. – Maybe it's late and I'm pissy, but I really don't like JD. He lives such a pointless, boring life. I've never seen anything like it. He can't get laid. He only pees in the shower, which I consider gross. He's too afraid of his roommates walking in on him to pleasure me. Like they care! It's really sad.

1:04 a.m. – Look at him, playing Madden again. This is the highlight of his day. I am so angry right now, you have no idea. Just pick up the phone and call a girl. Be a man for once. I was reading his column before. He's too much of a puss to even put a picture of himself on there. What is wrong with him? This can't be how he wants to live his life, empty pizza boxes, beer bottles, and Playstation. What kind of life is that? Why do people even read his columns? He can barely spell.

1:22 a.m. – He's finally going to bed. He's thinking about her again. THAT GIRL. Stop FUCKING thinking about her. Do you see how frustrating this is for me? It's like a prison. He's going to forget about me, I just know it. He doesn't care about me, he only thinks about himself.

1:26 a.m. – I hate going to sleep angry. He's out like a light but I'm wide awake. This is so annoying. Maybe if he eats enough French Fries and beer he'll have a heart attack at age 20. I can only hope. This is no way to live life. Hey, wait a second. Is that Elisha Cuthbert? And she's dressed like a schoolgirl. Hey, I know where this is going. Ooh baby. I love you JD.

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