Today’s Guest Post comes from wise, influential, and highly appealing Joseph Craven. He runs The Greatest Blog Of All Time, and he may OR MAY NOT have written this introductory paragraph. Doesn’t a paragraph only need three sentences?
If there’s one thing I can say with all certainty about Stanton Martin, it’s that I lived with him for a little while. I can say this, because he only answered to Stanton, not Spencer. So I KNOW it was him.
In the process of living in the same house as me, Stanton seemed to make it a priority to destroy anything I enjoyed about his existence. Yeah sure, we’d have laughs and jokes, but without fail, he would instantly do one of the 7 Things that I hated.
What are those 7 Things, you ask? I’m getting there. Don’t rush me.
Cleaning. There are two kinds of people in the world: Dudes and Ladies. When you live in a house of Dudes, with a low possibility of any Ladies coming by, you don’t have to clean up all that much. But nobody gave Stanton that memo, and sure enough, he was ALWAYS finding things to clean. The kitchen was always just a TAD too moldy for him. The living room always had just ONE too many empty Wendy’s bags sitting around. I swear to you, he tried to barge into my room with a broom on multiple occasions.
Attached to his iPhone. You know those commercials that said “There’s an app for that?” Stanton was probably the guy who did research for those commercials. If you were doing anything at all, he would have his phone in hand, apping all the way. And music? Constantly playing on that thing. Just sitting in his room? He’s playing music. Taking a shower? Playing music. Making a drastic effort to further alienate me from ever being friends with him? Then you KNOW he was blasting music while cleaning.
A constant stream of Netflix in the mail. Look, the entertainment he finds in watching movies wouldn’t be a problem at all IF THE DISKS HAD STOPPED COMING ONCE STANTON MOVED OUT. There’s only so many times you can send the “Hey, change your Netflix address” text message to somebody before your predictive text finishes the sentence once you hit the comma. I’m almost positive he was doing it on purpose.
Buying a better TV than me. I was excited when the Super Bowl came around and stores were marking down their TV prices. It meant I could upgrade. And oh, dear children, I upgraded. By nearly a foot and a half. It was great. But then comes Stanton, with his big stupid love of refresh rates, and he buys the model DIRECTLY ABOVE mine. Same size, but more megahertz. And that megahurt my pride.
See what you’ve done, Stanton? You caused me to make awful puns! AWFUL, AWFUL PUNS.
Inviting his STUPID friends over and cooking STUPID food with them. I sometimes have to work long hours. Nothing makes me happier than finishing up a tiring 12 hour day and coming to a quiet home with fast food. But whenever I would least expect it, Stanton would have all of his attractive friends over, with their hair and teeth and personalities that are all nicer than mine. And sure enough, they would have cooked attractive food for themselves, with ingredients I’ve never heard of and a freshness I could never accomplish.
At least they had bad taste in TV shows. House, guys? Really? I’ll give you a hint: it’s a rare ailment only House has ever heard of. Every. Time.
Keeps up with current events, not sports. I never could understand this one. I’d be pumped about how the Mavs were really turning it on against the Heat in the Finals, but Stanton would be discussing lame things like the debt ceiling, or natural disasters that damaged countries I’m unfamiliar with. I kid you not, though, Stanton did get interested in one sports-related thing this past year. Sadly, it was the lockout. Cause he was interested in the business of things. And I’m dead serious.
This shirt. You probably know the shirt I am talking about. It’s the shirt. Stanton claims he looked good in every single picture that’s been taken of him in that shirt. He says his overall physical attractiveness peaked Junior year, and suspects it was because of that shirt. Basically, he wouldn’t shut up about this stupid shirt. He kept claiming somebody stole it, and that a piece of his soul was stolen in the process. I think it got tired of being worn constantly. Whatever happened to it, I’m just glad it’s gone.
P.S. I totally stole it and it’s just as good as he claims.
What do YOU hate about Stanton? Don’t worry, he’ll NEVER find out!