If you are reading this, you are likely afflicted with the same condition that plagues millions of otherwise-okay people: not getting any.

You're probably enjoying a quiet evening to yourself, expanding your mind on philosophy and music that entails more than just tired lyrical clichés and the same three repeated chords. Maybe you're writing manifestos on your old beaten-up typewriter, or finishing up the last touches on your still life. Maybe you're cooking up a feast fit for the gods to bring down to the local Salvation Army charity dinner. Or, maybe you're jacking off to amateur midget porn, tub of butter within one arm's reach and stained, greasy laptop in the other. Either way, this is the life you've chosen, and you're all grown up now.

Shattering your inner peace, you hear muffled noises that have become all too familiar by now: sloppy, wet kissing, bedsprings creaking, clothes being removed with fumbling hands. You begin to question your life choices, begin to wonder if Richard Dawkins and your idiot older brother who dropped out of college to smoke pot full-time had a point after all. Your roommate is about to get some, and you are not.

You could wallow in self-pity and vow to change your behavior to suit the flighty whims and dictates of your preferred gender, thereby losing some of your precious individuality --- or you could make the best of this situation and have a little harmless fun while you're at it. Here are some ideas:

  • Conduct a symphony. Put on your best tuxedo and tap your baton daintily on your music stand. The '1812 Overture' is very appropriate for this occasion, but it's tricky to time the cannon shot just right. Ravel's 'Bolero' will do in a pinch. Choose your piece wisely.

  • Judge them along the US Olympic Committee's guidelines for figure skating: form, style, technique, concentration and the ability to perform under great pressure. Since you likely can't see your roommate and his/her innamorata/o/i (unless you have a peephole, you dirty pervert), you'll have to play it by ear, which makes it hard to judge the first three or four criteria.

    The last one, however, is fun to play with: the ability to perform under great pressure. If you're feeling particularly malevolent, you could really have some fun with this. Trip a smoke alarm! Hammer nails into the shared wall; be sure to hit your thumb a few times and really let loose with the profanity. Play X-Box Live loudly in the living room and be really vocal about it when some 14-year old dipshit nails you for the fifth time with a plasma grenade. Lay the pressure on thick, and keep your score card handy!

  • In the same spirit as the first option, try something atonal: write a dadaistic musical score. Think Stockhausen or the busker in front of the Starbucks. Try not to emulate John Cage's 4'33" (despite the fact that that probably is the soundtrack to your love life at the moment). Remember, the more noise, the better! Pretend you're Blixa Bargeld, and hammer away with crockery and Nintendo controllers. Look really intense and inspired while you do it. Remember: celibacy enhances creativity, and all the great artists and thinkers did their best work while not getting any. Celebrate it by creating chaos. Let's do it, à Dada!

  • Quietly and surreptiously rearrange the living room furniture. Replace the wall posters with cheap landscape prints. Hide the video game consoles away and put old copies of Reader's Digest in their place. Bestrew the place with mothballs and half-eaten cat food. In the twenty minutes or so before your roommate reemerges from his love den, try to create the impression that he has somehow wandered into the wrong apartment by mistake. You're aiming to disorient and baffle your roommate as much as possible in his endorphin-besotted state.

    Extra points if you manage to repaint the walls in some hideous color and change out the carpeting.

    Triple points for making the apartment appear as though it were on gimbals by nailing the furniture and carpeting to a wall, putting the ceiling fan on the opposite wall, and so on. You might need help from your fellow celibate buddies for this one (they're not doing anything tonight anyways, so put them to work). Be crafty, but be quick!

You see? You needn't let your roommate's getting off get you down. Now go forth and make the best of an awkward and depressing fifteen minutes!

I've been on both ends of this dilemma. I won't say which ones I've pulled on others or which ones have been pulled on me. Some methods have been updated to modern technology.

  • Instantly take up yodeling. Put on a YouTube video with yodelers and practice along with them.
  • Put on a death metal CD and crank it up.
  • If you're a drummer, every time she moans or says something hit a crash cymbal.
  • Invite friends over to start a Gregorian Chant group. Bonus points for wearing robes.
  • Put on a YouTube video of barnyard animals making loud noises. My favorite is the horny goats that yell loud.
  • Put "I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston on repeat.
  • Put "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" by Meat Loaf on repeat.
  • Decide to vacuum the walls.
  • Take up playing the tuba or sad trombone. Try to play along with their noises.
  • Invite ten people of different sexes and orientations over to practice their sex vocalizations. Your roommate will think they're missing out on an orgy.
  • Invite their mother over for tea.
  • Hit on their mother over tea.
  • Agree to have sex on the couch and begin. Shout her name a lot.
  • Invite their ex over for tea. Repeat the above sequence if needed.
  • Discover you hate tea and loudly barf in the bathroom nearest their lovemaking.
  • Announce loudly that the mail has arrived and their test results for that embarrassing STD is available.
  • When was the last time you tested your smoke alarm? Might be overdue, so push that test button. 
  • Practice primal screaming.
  • Practice shouting "MORTAL KOMBAT!" Bonus points if you get anyone else to shout it back.

It was a good thing that his mother was divorced milf...

Iron Noder 2017

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