Jasmine has officially joined the crew of revolting angry princesses. A.K.A. CRAP Squad – lead by you royal highnesses, Belle and Meg, the Trash Queens.

Meg even made us these beautiful crowns.

Anyway, in light of the mouse incident the other night, Jasmine decided to take a stand against the behaviors of our disgusting roommates.

Meg and I were thrilled, as you can see from our praise hands. At last, the CRAP squad had majority! We finally had the numbers to (theoretically) combat the fifth of the troll and her mysterious dining concoctions.

We got the usual bullshit affirmations from the others, followed by yet another mouse incident (Merida “trapped” it in the bathroom…), and the brief fridge discussion I already covered…before the drama continued.

You would think that between Jasmine and Meg the problem would be solved…but Meg still came home to this:


No joke.


….which gave her a wonderful idea!


Yup, she actually did it.

Which lead to Merida’s appropriate response:


Where does that leave us, you ask?

Well, tomorrow is trash day and the recycling bin looks like this:


Meg and I are still not buying communal goods.
There is no toilet paper (except our private stashes).
There are no paper towels.
There are no paper plates.
There is no hand soap (ew).

…and now pots and pans may only be used with Merida’s permission.

It looks like the CRAP Squad still has a lot of work to do *sigh.*

We are the Trash Queens. Long may we reign. May we sit upon our thrones forever.



xoxo Belle



“I’m just thinking about our utility bill with two fridges…”

The fridge saga continues. Our landlord is finally replacing the broken fridge with two smaller (full size) fridges. One for each floor. Convenient and awesome, right? Now the troll can stay upstairs where she belongs!



There’s always something with this girl.


In the words of Ariel, “Wait what?”

The girl who just had to have the most expensive room in the apartment…

The girl who leaves every light on in the house…

The girl who leaves her fan and radio on while going home for the weekend…

The girl who leaves the AC on when she isn’t even in the room – WITH WINDOWS OPEN…!

…is concerned about our utility bills!?

I’m sorry — are you FUCKING SERIOUS?!

It took every fiber of my being, not to make an aggressive comment about turning off the goddamn lights and being more thoughtful about electricity…and then I remembered she has had a personal mini fridge up there since she moved in!

(yes, in case you forgot, her exploding tofu was in our broken fridge when she had a perfectly good mini fridge upstairs)

So, being the bitch that I am…I responded passive aggressively about he mini fridge.

If you can’t afford the bills, don’t pick the room that’s $90 more expensive a month. Or better yet, go back home where you have a bunch of people to coddle you, wash your dishes, and take out your trash since you aren’t even taking classes this year anyway.


The Refrigerator Saga: No Food

We at the lovely and luxurious 94 Walker have now been without a working full-sized refrigerator for over a month (approximately 7 weeks now). We (as well as our downstairs neighbors for some reason…) received this text today.


Contrary to our lease agreement, our landlord has been the point person for the repair work throughout this process. She has contacted the store/manufacturer and has reluctantly been the person at the apartment to greet the repairman at each visit (yes, there have been multiple). She’s kind of odd sometimes, but she’s overall awesome.

It all started back in July. It was one of those heat waves that suck the life out of you and make you feel like you’re stuck to yourself. Our fridge was packed full with miscellaneous perishable belongings, and it was in dire need of a purging/cleaning. Over the course of a few days, we started to notice food was going bad too early, milk was curdling, Snow White’s tofu was exploding etc.


(the aforementioned tofu…also, yes-we-keep-wine-in-our-crisper-what-of-it?)

As the only adult in the apartment with any sort of handiwork/household knowledge (no offense meant to Meg —  I just simply grew up in an old home with quirks), I have become the point person for any technical/electric/plumbing failures.

Meg uses hairdryer while Merida’s AC is on …
*Belle shows roommates how to locate and use circuit breaker*

Toilet wont stop running…
*Belle tells roommates to jiggle the handle*

Refrigerator stops working…
*Belle gets out tool box and takes part of the fridge apart and determines which part is broken — only for the repairman to confirm this fact a week later*

….but I digress…

So, as the repair point person in the house, I contacted our landlord about the fridge. She contacted the repair company, and they set a day and time to come out to the apartment. As I said before, our landlord has been the one at the house to greet the repairman, because apparently no one is able to be home during the day (whether they are actually at work or not is truly debatable…can you sense my shock and disbelief?).

Each time repair work is done, a text goes out from our landlord (ironically to everyone except Snow White). Everyone chimes in saying they can’t be there, and she grudgingly rearranges her own schedule. This has happened at least three times over the last few weeks.


Meg, Merida, Rapunzel, and I cleaned out the fridge in preparation for the handyman, then Meg, as a respectable, sanitary human being, decided that the fridge malfunction was the perfect opportunity for a deep clean.

(the top are before *obviously* and the bottom are after – she’s a sassy angel)

Anyway, after weeks of abusing our bank accounts from constant takeout, we finally put on our thinking caps and realized we had a dorm fridge sitting on right next to the full-sized one that I’ve been meaning to take away (my procrastination paid off for once). So now we have miscellaneous goods shoved in there short term, and a freezer packed full with things that normally shouldn’t be frozen (like beer).

There must be more than this provincial life!


Hopefully this first-world torture will shortly come to an end…next week. Stay tuned.


Casual Wednesday Night

Did the three little pigs move in upstairs? Because this place is a fucking dump.


I got home on a WEDNESDAY night, around 10:15pm, and not only is there company over again (for the third WEEKnight in a row), but the apartment is an utter shit hole. No, but really, for princesses these girls are total and complete slobs.


I guess it’s to be expected when you grow up with servants or little birds and rodents and crabs doing all your chores for you.


I’m sorry, your highness, but is it that difficult to walk down a goddamn flight of stairs and dump your shit into a bigger barrel?




tina fey


What’s the deal with Stonehenge?

Or rather, why the hell is my home named after a prehistoric pile of rocks?


Answer: Music Majors.

Unbeknownst to me and Meg, the other princesses sat around imbibing one night, and decided that our apartment needed a name. Now, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the ritual of naming things of value — I name my cars, for instance, but don’t you think that should be a decision that  ALL the roommates would be involved with?

giphy (2).gif


So, after this night of drunken laughter and debauchery, Meg and I are casually and indirectly informed of this preposterous christening of 94 Walker. Of course, having been left out of this decision, we are instantly defiant and repulsed (as a matter of principle, but also because “Stonehenge” is moronic). When we ask for an explanation through gritted teeth, we are answered with stifled laughter and choking replies of “there’s this song” and “you had to be there.”

See “this song” below:

Yeah. That song is why the ENTIRE music department now knows about our apartment. How music majors appreciate such idiocy is beyond me, but we are now the talk of a significantly large group of people (people who play ukuleles and sing in the living room at 2:30am). This dubbing of 94 Walker has also been a catalyst for incessant vomit-inducing snap chat stories citing the “Stonehenge Trio” (Snow White, Ariel, and Jasmine). More about that later.

Anyways, Ariel tried to create a colorful poster explaining the name – to hang on the wall upstairs (it would go very nicely with Snow White’s classy Mardi Gras beads hanging all over the the banister), but she left her work unattended for a number of weeks, so finally in a fit of pre-my-roommates-don’t-clean-rage-strike I destroyed it with great satisfaction. Do not tangle with me.

As one of our dear friends (we’ll call her Rapunzel) said last night, Meg is “passive aggressive” and Belle is “aggressive-aggressive.” Mess with the bull Belle and you’ll get the horns because….

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Shower Caddy?

Belle: *walks into upstairs bathroom*

Belle: *sees Snow White’s products all over the counter and sink*

Belle: *instant rage, tempted to flip a table*

Belle: *grabs market basket bag. aggressively shoves all products into bag. ties bag in bow. leaves bag outside bathroom door.*

Belle: *showers in peace*

Belle: *goes downstairs after cleaning up after herself*

Snow White: *speaks in high pitched voice reminiscent of Professor Umbridge*
“Oh! I’m sorry, I’ve been meaning to star using a shower caddy! It has been just me and       Meg here, so I didn’t think I needed to yet. But, don’t worry! I’ll start using one!”

Belle: *showing great self restraint* “Oh! That’s okay, I moved everything for you while I was cleaning! Your stuff is in a bag outside the bathroom door!”

Belle: *exits to bedroom*

Belle: *smug, cheshire cat smile*