This article is part of the Anime Roommate series.
Our friendship is about to E.X.P.L.O.D.E.We've been friends for a long time, but things are not working anymore. I have spent the last few months writing down your faults and I am now prepared to present them to you. I do this in hope that you will learn to be a better person, or at least learn to respect me. You can either take this as justification to continue behaving the way you do and risk our friendship altogether, or use it as a blueprint for self improvement.
I sat by when you and your friends used my collectible cards as coasters. A lot of great Yu-Gi-Oh! cards were lost to what I can only assume is carelessness at best, and vindictiveness at worst. I learned to forgive you because I am a Christian and my Savior tells me to turn the other cheek. But things have reached critical mass, like Tetsuo near the end of Akira, one of the quintessential films of our era, even if it is extremely mainstream.
When I am watching Naruto, Jerry, I do not need you sitting next to me eating Captain Crunch loudly and interjecting your own misinformed commentary track. If you have questions about Naruto, that is fine. There's a lot of subtle nuances and texture to take in. That's why it's called art, Jerry. That is also why we have things like Wikipedia, so you can get informed and become a wiser person.
I also have a hard time stomaching your shameful hypocrisy. When you brought your girlfriend over, I tolerated her, even if she was rude and continually alluded to my weight and smell. I cannot help it, Jerry, if the flesh of my inner thighs is necrotizing. That is a common medical condition. I bit my tongue and buried my hurt feelings for the benefit of our relationship as roommates.
Yet when my girlfriend moved in from across the country, you suddenly found yourself at odds with the opposite sex. You yelled and screamed, insulted me, insulted her, and even made her cry. Because of this, I had to foot the bill for a weeklong stay at the Motel 6 until her stepdad could wire her the gas money to drive home. She hasn't talked to me since. Because of you, Jerry, I was denied the opportunity to settle down and start a family. Worst of all, you hurt her so bad that she stopped writing her web comic, robbing the world of an important artist.
Let us not forget your inability to understand boundaries and enforce them. When your friends come over to hang out, they raid the fridge without a care in the world whether the items within belong to them. I don't have a problem with you sharing your things, Jerry, but I do have a problem with your friends drinking all of my Mountain Dew Code Red.
I know you're not a doctor, Jerry, but there's a little disease called diabetes. Without that Mountain Dew, I could crash from low blood sugar and die. I would not invite my friends over to consume your medicine haphazardly. It is virtually unfathomable you would even think such a thing appropriate, seeing as how it borders on manslaughter in the eyes of our legal justice system.
This libtard terminator keeps asking for guns that don't exist and I may have to close early out of frustration.
Editor's Note: Due to a freak power outage, this obituary of Barbara Bush was written without the benefit of research. In order to pay our respects to this great woman in a timely fashion, we have decided to post this piece as-is. We hope you forgive any errors on our part.
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A blob of rotting flesh writes passive-aggressive letters to his roommate Jerry waxing poetic on the undeniable beauty and cultural importance of anime.