[insert colorful expletive of your choice here]

So yeah, once again I'm going to an early-ass shift on no sleep thanks to the three stooges I share this shitty ass apartment with.

8 rolls around and I gotta be up at 3, so I let the guy I share a room with know I'm going to bed. What does Larry do? Fucker follows me into the room like a fucking lost puppy, plops down at his desk and announces he's going to play on his computer for a bit. Fucker types like he's killing bugs. No sleep for an hour.

Moe gets off work, comes home, Larry goes to chill in the living room with him. I finally fall asleep...for ten fucking minutes.

Suddenly I'm wide awake and shitting masonry because a fucking FIST crashed through the wall a foot above my fucking head. Turns out Moe got home wanting a nice big bowl, but the bong was clogged and his precious pokey was MIA. Yup. Fucker flushed his security deposit down the shitter over a fucking piece of coat hanger.

So I storm out in my birthday suit and tear Moe a new one, have a cig, go back to bed...only now Larry has gone to bed, his nose is whistling and he's talking in his sleep fucking CONSTANTLY. Yeah, apparently sleep just isn't going to happen. I just thank sweet crispy fuck Curly's working. That fucker's the worst of the lot, and when he sees the hole Moe punched in his wall he's going to raise unholy hell.

So now here I sit, wide awake, adrenaline still pumping, no weed to calm me the fuck down, and my shift starts in two hours and fifteen minutes. Joy.