Special update by my girlfriend:

It's always strange, being at my boyfriend's place for extended amounts of time without once seeing his creepy roommate. I mean, the apartment can't be but 1000 square feet. How is it possible that I can stay over a whole weekend and not see him once when he's there the whole time? It's nuts. He avoids us like the plague. This past Saturday we were coming home from watching the brilliant "Sin City" and as we opened the door we caught sight of Freako (my nickname for him) making a break for it. He was running to his room from the living-room is his underwear. The sight was complemented by the slamming of his bedroom door. Me and my boyfriend just looked at each other like "What the fuck was that?". To help Freako in his cause, we have learned to just stay in our room. This doesn't help as he still refuses to eat anywhere but in his bedroom and never enters the living-room unless it's to walk out of the apartment in slow-motion. So fuck it, we start hanging out in the living-room again, he obviously has no use for it. We're out there and he goes back and forth from his bedroom to his bathroom over and over again. It's like 3 in the morning. Back and forth until it's beyond ridiculous. I look at my boyfriend who seems oblivious to the absurdity of it. He must be used to these antics by now. I hear him open his bedroom door, scurry to the restroom and slam the door, he stays in for a couple of minutes, then goes back to his room and slams his door. REPEAT. he must of done it about 7 or 8 times. The next day me and the boyfriend are laying in bed after some hot sex. The blinds are lifted a little ways so that the kitties can look out the window. We see Freako open the door in slow motion. He's wearing his underwear, a Hawaiian shirt, tube socks and sneakers. He also has a briefcase with him. I motion for my boyfriend to look. "Where the hell is he going dressed like that?" I asked. "With his briefcase no less?". My boyfriend just shook his head. Freako stood in the doorway about 30 seconds facing our window. I got scared he could see or hear us. He then slowly closed the door and locked it. I could hear him stomp down each step very slowly. It was scary. About 20 minutes later it was time for me to go home. Boyfriend walked me downstairs to my car and we see that Freako is still parked next to me. He never left.

My roommate asked if he could borrow a hat, and before I could hand him mine, he asked if they have hats at the corner store. I said yes, and he left, then returned with an identical hat to mine.

My girlfriend was over, and she was trying to be nice and talked to him while he was eating (standing up of course) in the kitchen. They talked for maybe 30 seconds before she realized that he had a raging hard on.

A friend of mine came over and he convinced my roommate to go out with us. He wanted to see my roommate "on the hunt." He didn't disappoint, as he attempted to infiltrate a bachelorette party. That went horribly. Later, we went to one of his frequent haunts, and wow, that place really, really, really fucking sucked. I was embarassed to be there. We watched him hit on some ugly chicks. A lot. And he still struck out.

He never gave a rose to his dream girl.

His brother-in-law came to visit. They went out drinking, and the brother-in-law never came back. He was supposed to stay the night. I think he's dead.

My roommate broke down yesterday. He told me his life story ("obviously, you understand, I have to water down parts of it" he said). His evil stepfather. His evil mother. It went on and on. fortunately, my girlfriend called, and as soon as I answered it, he scurried back into his room.

Of course, he just got a phone call, so he's talking in his loudest voice in the living room.

My roommate didn't have a valentine. Shocker, I know. But he, by god, has a plan. Friday night, my girlfriend was coming over, so I tried to talk him into asking out one of his friends. He couldn't do it; it'd compromise his "friendship." Maybe he's gay. Anyway, I managed to talk into him that there were many, many desperate girls out this holiday, and that they'd be easy pickens. Maybe I shouldn't have tempted him with sweet, sweet murder, but it got him out of the house. Thankfully, he came back emptyhanded. That's not going to stop his masterplan, though.
There's a girl he's in love with, you see. And she knows; she sat right in front of him in class. She's got to know what he feels for her. So he's going to bring a solitary rose to her. In class. The day AFTER Valentine's Day. I'll keep you posted to see just how well this masterplan goes. Considering he doesn't even know her name. Considering that she has a boyfriend. Considering that she has no idea who he is. Oh man, it's going to be great.

I was sitting in the living room, just watching TV and eating when my roommate came out of his room. I didn't even know that he was home. He walked in slow-motion to the living room where I was and placed his backpack on a chair, then, in slow-motion, into the kitchen, then out again, still in slow-motion, grabbing the mail in slow-motion I had left for him on a different chair, then back to the kitchen, still in slow-motion, then back out, standing perfectly still for a moment, then, in slow-motion, picked up his backpack (but didn't put it on; he just carried it, yes, in slow-motion) and then walked out the door, in slow-motion, and locked the door from outside, in slow-motion. He never acknowledged me once. Hell, knowing him, he was probably driving his car in slow-motion.

The other day, my roommate called me over to his room. Right after, I heard a great crashing, and then my roommate cursing. I go over to his room, and he was attempting to hang up his knife collection on his walls in a decorative fashion. One knife, however, was on the wall his bed was against. "Don't you think that might be a bad idea, considering your knives are already falling off the walls?" I said. "Nah," he replied, right as another knife fell off another wall. I guessing that this is a cry for help.

My roommate was to go on a blind date this past weekend. He was excited. "Did they tell you that she has a great personality?" I asked. "Yes, as a matter of fact, they did!" Dear god. He had no idea that that really means humongously, morbidly fat. He even ironed a shirt for the first time in ages. He was so excited.

He got stood up anyway.

My roommate told me something, but it was under the utmost of confidence. So I guess I can't share it.

When my girlfriend comes over, my roommate typically hides in his room the entire time. It works out pretty decent for me, usually. Of course, there are those showdowns whenever my girlfriend, for whatever reason, ends up alone with him in the living room, with no one speaking or even acknowledging the other is even there. Anyway, my girlfriend and I were on the couch, watching a movie, when I heard his door open. I assumed he was probably going to the bathroom, to the washing machine, or to the kitchen, but, instead, he peeked out from around the corner and said,
"Hey Roomie! did you read about the UFO thing in the USA Today?" "Um, no." 'well, if you get the chance, you gotta go to UFOIndia.org." "Um, okay."
And then he went back to his room (not to the bathroom, not to the kitchen, not to the washing machine; he literally just came out of his room just to tell me that. Seriously.), and I didn't see him for the rest of the weekend.

My roommate has a new trick. Whenever he gets a phone call, which is quite rare, he comes out into the living room and talks as loudly as he can. I think he's trying to let me know that he does have friends. I still don't believe him. He's probably just pretending to be on the phone.

The other day, my roommate inquired if I had Dante's Inferno. I did, and I pointed to the bookshelf. He headed over, head cocked to one side, and looked at every book on the shelf before finding it. He then, instead of taking the book over to his room or something else like that, just sat down cross-legged in front of the bookshelf. I was watching TV, so I wasn't going anywhere, but he just sat there, reading. For like an hour. He then put the book back carefully, and walked back to his room without another word.