"I swear to god I have 99 goddamn problems and Ellis is easily a quarter of them. Mix the two of them and I have half of my problems right there."

Nick's Problems: All 99 of them

(*Note: This seemed like a fun venture to go on, and I was bored the other day, so here we have 99 problems. Formatting didn't agree with my numbering, but I assure you there is 99. I counted.)

If I don't put some highly greasy substance in my hair everyday, I have an afro.

I vacuumed up a rat the other day. The rat died, literally blew up all over the rug and ruined the vacuum. The smell was horrible and rat guts do not come out of a rug. I didn't know that before but I know it now.

I don't cry for any reason and as a result my eyes are dry literally all the time.

One time, I accidentally called my sister 'baby' when I got off the phone with her. Next time I saw her, she said she was concerned about me and handed me a brochure for a center for sexual deviants.

When I was in my early 20s, I went through a phase of calling everyone 'bitch' all the time. Long story short, I pissed off a Triad and instead of killing me, like four of his buddies knocked me unconscious and I woke up with the a good sized tattoo of the Chinese symbol for 'bitch' on my shoulder blade. Still have it.

I'm white and I can't jump or dance.

Ellis

Ellis

Ellis is my problem.

I'm not from fucking New Jersey. I swear to god, spend more than one sunset in that place (I spent 2 years) and you're automatically from there. I'm from fucking Boston.

I don't give a shit about baseball so no one in Boston talks to me.

Ellis! Goddamn it, he can't count to 15 without saying 14 twice and doesn't understand why I'm saying that he technically counted to 16.

I can't say the word 'pasta' like a non-Italian.

My middle name is Andrea. It's not a girl's name in my family's culture but that doesn't stop people from laughing til I shoot a hole in their foot.

I have horrifically violent nightmares. I will literally scream myself awake.

I will lose it completely if a dog licks itself and then licks me.

I have a missing tooth that bugs the shit out of me. My dad punched one of my back molars out because I called my sister Marie a fuck up.

I got charged with attempted murder over a misunderstanding. This meth addict tried to mug me, so I beat the shit out of him. He wasn't responding so I thought he was dead and I tried to disappear him into the trunk of my car. Turns out he wasn't dead. He just had a seizure and went limp. His dad was a cop. He's one of the reasons why I can't legally own a gun.

I can't help but count cards after doing it so much.

I have this half-moon scar right by my junk from where my ex-wife got pissed and bit me. It itches literally all the time.

I almost dislocated Ellis' elbow the other day because he tried to touch me with his dirty sock. He still jumps when I get near him.

Nobody pronounces my last name right.

I have a fucking Nickleback song stuck in my head.

I like the taste of banana but I can't find a way to eat it without looking gay or throwing up.

I know this is a girl thing, but I hate the feeling of my thighs touching.

Ellis, he doesn't know what gluten is. He thinks I made it up.

If on the rare occasion I get excited about anything, I talk really fast and people think I'm rapping.

Ellis, his habit of taking pictures of me while I'm knocked out on Benadryl needs to stop.

Speaking of Benadryl, I have horrible spring, summer, and fall allergies.

In winter, I don't have allergies, but I catch a cold easy as pie.

Puerto Rico. That's my problem and that place will fuck you up.

One time Keith introduced me to some people as "Nick aka My Anaconda don't want none unless you're another guy's ass." I was in the doghouse for slamming his remaining thumb in the door.

Listening to violin music used to help me sleep and now I sleep like shit.

I hate Fritos, but I'm in the mood for chips and those are the only kind we have in the house.

Ellis.

I have to wash my sheets at least once a week just to feel clean.

I still have healing wounds from how hard I scrubbed myself after getting out of that sewer.

I miss having a phone. Cell towers are still down so I just have an expensive paperweight at home.

All of my fingernails have to be cut down to the quick. I wash my hands constantly and having anything under my nails feels disgusting.

Keith is over at my house right now. He and Ellis are both drunk and have discovered twerking. They have been jerking their asses in my face almost all day and my boner is confused.

I hate the toothpaste in the bathroom, but there isn't any left of the kind I usually brush with in the entire state.

I can't enjoy a zombie movie anymore without thinking, "That's not what happened."

I get indigestion entirely to easily.

I have a universal blood type but I hate needles.

I have a headache.

I am romantically involved with a monster. Ellis doesn't understand why Bambi is 'supposedly' so sad. His mom got shot in the GODDAMN FACE, ELLIS!

Rochelle thinks I don't respect women.

I took an elbow to the gut because I called Rochelle a 'broad'.

I still have parking tickets that I didn't pay off before the outbreak. The late fees are going to be insane.

Every year someone makes the mistake of telling me to have a Happy Hanukkah around December. I'm not Jewish.

I can't stop swearing, even if I tried. It just comes out as a part of my normal speech pattern.

Even now that the outbreak is over, I can't take headache medication without announcing 'grabbin pills' first.

Ellis does so many stupid things and sometimes I can't help but laugh. When I laugh, it encourages him.

Ellis won't agree with me on how many times I have saved his ass. My tally is 31. His is only 12.

I visited a farm when I was a kid and I hated the sound that the pigs made so much that it still haunts my dreams.

The next door neighbors share a vent with us so our living room reeks of weed.

Apparently I talk in my sleep, a lot.

Moonshine tastes like ass and it's the only hard alcohol available anymore.

This generation is making me hate music.

I spent my elective period in high school outside smoking, and as such I never learned how to play an instrument.

I miss the value of having money.

I miss wine, the good kind. Not the friggin $12 shit that Ellis tried to poison me with when we were out surviving.

I miss my gun.

Ellis

Ellis

The fact that I could just yell, "Goddamn it, Ellis" at any given time and he will without a doubt be doing something to deserve it.

I haven't played a video game since Playstation 1 was a thing.

I'm bored and playing chess with myself. The king piece looks like a big wang and I can't stop laughing at it.

Just because I'm spewing obscenities all over the place does not mean I'm angry.

I put my hands in my pockets to avoid being too animated when I talk.

I actually really like Downton Abbey but I have no one to watch it with because everyone I know is an uncultured pig.

I'm moderately hungry.

Still got that Nickleback song clanging around in my brain.

When I tell people not to ask me how I know something, they always ask me how I know something.

If I don't manscape every couple of days, I feel like a nasty ass rug.

Every time I take a shower, the hot water runs out before I'm done.

Ellis doesn't have a grasp on how to talk dirty during sex. He always ends up saying things that are cute and romantic and I laugh instead of getting turned on.

You know what else doesn't come out of white? Rectal blood, that's what.

My birthday passed a week ago and nobody noticed. I mean how were they supposed to know? But shit, a handful of money would have been nice.

I used to have anxiety in church on account of that weird ass chanting and standing and sitting shit that Catholics do. I still cringe when someone says 'peace be with you'.

I pulled a muscle in my hip- didn't BREAK my hip, Ellis- when I damn near fell on my head in the shower because some fucknut decided to let the shampoo bottle spill everywhere and didn't clean up the mess.

I had a burger with Coach the other day and I have no idea what it was made out of but here's a hint, it wasn't beef.

Hummus is pretty popular around here after the outbreak. Hummus gives me the shits.

Ellis left the bathroom window open and bird flew in and shit everywhere. It's still here, screeching and flying around and these two drunk assholes are trying to shoo it back outside with brooms. They've both been pecked/bit to the point of bleeding and now I have bird shit and human blood to clean up.

I can't believe I have this many problems.

I'm really confused about this apartment. When we moved in, there was a fireplace poker collection against the wall. This place doesn't have a fireplace.

There's noise inside the walls at night. I don't know what it is, but it sure as shit isn't ghosts, Ellis.

It's not my fault that Zoey girl is such a bitch, and if I hear 'you started it' one more time I am going to go medieval on everyone's asses.

The people that live on the floor below me have been crying loudly for an hour. None of my business, but I want them to shut up.

The goddamn bird is still here and managed to outsmart Keith and Ellis by getting them to slam into each other trying to chase it from opposite directions. Both have a bloody nose and probably a concussion.

I have elected to handle the bird situation before the military police show up and question me about how two dumbass rednecks managed to kill each other.

I'm not 100% but I think I'm getting an ingrown toenail.

I had such a bad migraine that I threw up the other day, and my puke was a pinkish color. Ulcers. Fun.

Not a single pair of my socks match as of yesterday.

I need something to chew but its raining and I don't want to go out to get more gum.

There's this thing that Ellis does to me and recently there was an incident. Long story short, he made me squeak like a girl and I haven't been able to live it down.

I look like Satan if I try to grow a goatee.

The toilet paper in this place still have bits of wood embedded in it. Like using sandpaper.

I'm gonna close with: ELLIS is my main problem.