Wow. Where do I even begin? I've seen homeless people off a comedown on Skid Row happier than half the residents in this place. Firstly, be careful touching the kitchen faucet because it seems the metal bindings that hold it together are connected to the sink using scotch tape. Oh, and tread lightly opening the door, apparently if you dare even breathe on it, the bolt lock will fly off and hit the opposite wall, simultaneously ripping the frame to pieces. Once this happens (it will), have fun asking maintenance to come fix it; they will reattach the bolt lock using the same damn scotch tape they used to put together the sink. And don't even get me started about the fu**ing thermostat. I'm not one to bring up politics but climate change is definitely real in this place. I'll go to bed with it set at 68 degrees, and in the morning wake up with my b*lls shriveled up into my goddamn stomach. Huh, maybe there's a ghost here? Also, if you don't like to dispose of your waste, 611 is the place for you! After a week of (albeit) heinously voiding my bowels, my toilet stopped flushing. Apparently, maintenance was on vacation that week, so I had to manually shove them down the pipe with my fist. Not like I planned on having any girls over anyway, considering the 6 fat logs in my toilet and the 1-guest-per-month policy. Good stuff guys. So I thought to myself, what's the best way to blow off some steam from my lack of sex life. Oh, the gym! After waiting for a shitty elevator for 30 minutes (seriously, I swear these f**king elevators are pulled up manually by a worker--maybe that's why none of them can fix my toilet), I found my way into the "gym". I mean what the f*** is this. Good luck trying to lose some weight on the treadmills, because there's a 104% chance that every single one is taken up at all times of day by some herbs. And dumbbells that only go up to 75 - I'd rather walk 45 minutes to North Campus and lift with some real herbs than this. Wait! I forgot I have my car parked here (I can barely afford food after paying for a parking spot here). After driving to North Campus, I arrive back, only to find I can't get into the garage, as there are 5 DoorDash drivers blocking my entry! By the time I take 30 3-point turns to get to my parking spot, I realize its taken up by some insufferable sorority girl's 2024 Mercedes Benz (with no f**king parking pass). As I climbed the stairs into my room (I guess another one of the elevators broke while I was gone), I remembered that it was the 3rd day of the new month, and rent was due 2 days ago. Well, no need to worry, I set up autopay! I logged onto my computer to double check, just to realize my rent miraculously wasn't paid! Apparently, the same criminals that went to jail for crypto rug pulls also wrote the code for the 611 payment service. So, my rent is 3 days late? Why does that matter? Well, I'm sure my struggling family can tell you all about the extra $100 dollars they had to pay for the rent being two days late. What the hell. Well, after a long day at 611, I finally get to relax and hit the hay. I set my alarm for 10 am, but apparently 611 has a built-in alarm system already! I shot awake at the crack of dawn to constant booms that shook my room and rattled my windows. My b**ch a** thought I woke up on the San Andreas fault line, but alas, this was not the case. It was just the Vic Village construction crew, off to an early start at 5 in the damn morning. After all, that Raising Cane's wasn't gonna build itself. I quickly realized that this shit wasn't gonna stop anytime soon, so I sat up, grabbed my rock hard b*lls and pried them out from where they were hiding, and dropped a log in my trash can (I didn't feel like getting my hands dirty today). Just like this, another beautiful day in 611 had begun. read more