Blasting rap/hip-hop music to annoy Ben has become a daily ritual. Mostly because EVERYTHING Ben does annoys me.
So, I'm in my room writing music and suddenly in bursts Ben, tailed by two incredibly-loud, incredibly-obnoxious, and incredibly-stupid girls. Not that I'm superficial, but incredibly-ugly as well (I'm talking the type of girl that guys at the bar won't look at unless they're 65 or older, and even then it might take a few pitchers of beer). Since they've come over before, I was able to identify who they were based on their voices alone, which are incredibly distinct. We're talking the sound ten sets of car keys would make if you threw them into a wood chipper. That paired with the just-plain-stupid phrases they were literally shouting to each other and Ben caused a positive ID match.
These two dumb bitches (I use this term sparingly in reality, but there is really no other word to describe girls of this kind) are the type who ooze desperation. Desperation for peer approval. Desperation for self-validation of their "importance" in the grand scheme of life. Desperation for proof that they can continue to live a type of lifestyle reminiscent of their high school "glory days" when they had sex with the entire JV football team (at once). Desperation for any attention they can get, even if it labels them a sloppy whore. The type of girl who probably has more STDs than there are names for STDs currently. Yeah, we're talking about undiscovered strains.
Ben started talking about how he works out "like three or four times a day" and for some reason these girls responded with exaggerated laughs. Cackles, really. Throats accustomed to permanently gurgling on a dick. The laughter of a pair of girls who would give up their dignity so that a guy might think they're "cool" enough to sleep with.
Fortunately, I found out that they too aren't fans of rap/hip-hop music ("What's he even listening to in there?" I responded by turning up my speakers), and the trio left the apartment in annoyance.
Victory goes to me. Enjoy.
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