No Sleeves

Unbelievably, my soon-to-be-former roommate has acquired this irritating habit of busting into my room late at night when my door is closed, and I am presumably enjoying my privacy. This has happened THREE times now, with the following scenarios occurring:

Scenario 1: Tim is sleeping. End Result: Tim is pissed off, locks door.
Scenario 2: Tim is watching DVD. End Result: Tim is pissed off, locks door.
Scenario 3: Tim is in flagrante delicto with a female guest, who of course is positioned for maximum exposure at the time of intrusion. End Result: Tim finishes responsibilities, contemplates grabbing 9-iron and trying to send roommate’s testicles over roof next door.

Like a wife-beating hushand, he apologized after the first two times and blamed his intoxicated state. Being the idiot that I am, I believed him, and continued to leave my door unlocked. Now that he’s elevated into shithead territory, it is time to decide upon an appropriate punishment. The following options are under consideration:

1) Spiking body-wash with concentrated hot sauce
2) Hiding raw meat in fuse box within room
3) Take fruits and vegetables out of fridge, give thorough rinsing in toilet, replace in fridge
4) Sign roommate up for several hard-core pornography websites, using his credit card
5) Offer his room to homeless vagrant who may have been lying in own feces
6) Lock roommate inside with Celine Dion record on repeat…forever!
7) Purchase crack, plant in roommate’s jacket, make anonymous phone call to NYPD. Hilarity ensues!
…

Screw it, I’m not making it to 50. My apologies to Paul Simon for ripping off the post title–you keep making music for baby boomers to fuck to, Paul!