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NEW YORK - THIS IS A CRAPPY HOUSE, WE'RE CRAPPY HERE, IN THE CRAPPY HOUSE

The movie

Amityville Horror

was not based on a supposedly haunted house in Long Island. NAY! It has been revealed that it is based on the apartment that I am currently living in. Sure, our apartment may not have eyeball windows or a ghost pig running around, but for the ten months that I have lived in it my girlfriend and roommate and I have been Lutzed out to the max. Don't shit yourself over the following horrific details…

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We all moved here at the end of last summer in hopes of making it in the Big Crapple. We had two days to find an apartment before we had to get the moving truck back, and got into a nice-looking one in the butthole of Williamsburg, where there is nothing but 99 cent stores and barber shops as far as the eye can see. Within like a week of unpacking, we all hated each other. In the span of a few months I managed to:

- Get fat.

- Spit in my girlfriend's beer during a fight.

- Break open a frame and eat the picture inside it, out of unbridled anger.

- Remove my own tampon and put it in a paint can that was on the roof. Why? No reason.

- Alienate my roommate until she began to hate her own life, and the lives of others.

- Yoko out the working partnership that my girlfriend had with my roommate.

- Stress out my cat to the point of random pee occurrences.

- Become a fan of the Showtime series

The Tudors

.

I would highly suggest not living with people who you like. A near-one-year trial of this has ended in what is maybe (?) a breakup, a tattered friendship, a

broken lease

, and me moving to Staten Island. When you fuck up your personal relationships, you deserve to putt-putt to work on a little boat.

KELLY MCCLURE