Can You Stop Being a Communist For One Second?
We’ve been roommates for almost six months now, and I think there are some fundamental issues that we need to discuss. To put it simply:
Your “communist lifestyle” is seriously pissing me off.
I’m a reasonable person, and I understand the basis of your decision to live as a Marxist. But just because you feel that society functions best as a collective does not mean it’s O.K. for you to use my toothbrush, eat all of the Choc-O-Diles, or sleep in my bed when I’m not home. I think I’ve been pretty tolerant of your views, and I’d like a little respect in return without being called “scab,” “tyrant,” or a “bourgeois puppet.”
If you’re so committed to the ideal of a socialist culture, how about helping out with the housework once in a while? I really didn’t appreciate you comparing me to an “oppressive feudal lord” last week when I asked you to clean up the living room before my big date with Kim. And what was up with loading the CD player with all those Billy Bragg and Woody Guthrie discs right before she got here? I totally had In a Silent Way all cued up, you completely blew my chance to score, asshole. For a collectivist that was pretty fucking selfish.
Ever since you quit your “alienating and oppressive” job at iParty in February, I’ve been footing the bill for everything. While you’re sitting around the apartment all day, banging on your djembe and working on your anti-capitalist manifestos with your dreadlocked cronies, I’m busting my ass to make enough money to buy your precious Ritz Bits and pay the rent. Quite frankly, I’m sick of it.
I’ve asked you almost daily to find a job and help out with the utilities, but instead you just insult me. Well, listen up, Trotsky—what you refer to as my “fundamentalist demagogy and charlatanry” is exactly what is putting Annie’s Shells and Cheese and 8th Continent Chocolate Soymilk in your stomach. So don’t go citing the need for an “equal distribution of goods” or calling the concept of private ownership an “instrument of the State Ideological Apparatus” because you will be so fucking cut off.
Things are going to change around here, and soon. No more “egalitarian spirit” from this “Comrade.” Stage all the strikes and protests you want. My name’s on the lease, Ho Chi Minh.
Oh, and by the way, I’m not calling you “Che” no matter how many times you tell me to.
Your name is Leonard, dipshit. Blame your parents.
Your “communist lifestyle” is seriously pissing me off.
I’m a reasonable person, and I understand the basis of your decision to live as a Marxist. But just because you feel that society functions best as a collective does not mean it’s O.K. for you to use my toothbrush, eat all of the Choc-O-Diles, or sleep in my bed when I’m not home. I think I’ve been pretty tolerant of your views, and I’d like a little respect in return without being called “scab,” “tyrant,” or a “bourgeois puppet.”
If you’re so committed to the ideal of a socialist culture, how about helping out with the housework once in a while? I really didn’t appreciate you comparing me to an “oppressive feudal lord” last week when I asked you to clean up the living room before my big date with Kim. And what was up with loading the CD player with all those Billy Bragg and Woody Guthrie discs right before she got here? I totally had In a Silent Way all cued up, you completely blew my chance to score, asshole. For a collectivist that was pretty fucking selfish.
Ever since you quit your “alienating and oppressive” job at iParty in February, I’ve been footing the bill for everything. While you’re sitting around the apartment all day, banging on your djembe and working on your anti-capitalist manifestos with your dreadlocked cronies, I’m busting my ass to make enough money to buy your precious Ritz Bits and pay the rent. Quite frankly, I’m sick of it.
I’ve asked you almost daily to find a job and help out with the utilities, but instead you just insult me. Well, listen up, Trotsky—what you refer to as my “fundamentalist demagogy and charlatanry” is exactly what is putting Annie’s Shells and Cheese and 8th Continent Chocolate Soymilk in your stomach. So don’t go citing the need for an “equal distribution of goods” or calling the concept of private ownership an “instrument of the State Ideological Apparatus” because you will be so fucking cut off.
Things are going to change around here, and soon. No more “egalitarian spirit” from this “Comrade.” Stage all the strikes and protests you want. My name’s on the lease, Ho Chi Minh.
Oh, and by the way, I’m not calling you “Che” no matter how many times you tell me to.
Your name is Leonard, dipshit. Blame your parents.
posted by Mark at 7:55 AM
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