Fucking Alpha-Males

Am I defective? Am I just a broken man, is that it? Why is it that guys like Chaz and Vlad, with their limited vocabularies and cro-magnon social skills, can simply find sex whenever they want?

Is there some sort of radar for loose women, analogous to the fabled Gaydar? Is there something about a decent education that breaks this radar system? Perhaps reading books does it, or having intelligent conversation. Maybe these frat assholes are lining up to play Halo because it imparts some secret to finding women.

I don't sleep much. I find my thoughts are more my own when I have had little sleep; I am at home in a state of constant irritation, grogginess, and bed-hair. So I spend my time reading, writing my short stories, sometimes poetry; basically bettering myself and making the most of society's millenia of dedicated documentation. Chaz, it can be assumed, has spent the last 8 hours drinking beer and eating junk food. I believe a friend of his had a birthday yesterday, so it's certain that not a single mind went unintoxicated in the course of the evening. So, here I am, awake late at night, when I hear a great clatter; but I'll be damned if I move to see what is the matter.

Chaz, the only suitemate unaccounted for this evening, is returning home, and he is not alone. He fiddles with his keys--loudly, I might add--and shushes his mysterious second party, before they duck into his room. Shortly thereafter, the squeaking of the bed commenced.

Ah! Something has gone wrong, ladies and gentleman. Our mysterious guest has just left. I guess Halo doesn't teach you everything you need to know to please a woman.

I am consoled by this, and I shall take my consolation to bed with me.

That is all.