argh...
must... clean... apartmennnt...
This sucks... finally get a day off from both of my jobs, and I wake up to an apartment that me and my (equally busy) roommate have been neglecting for the past couple weeks... sink full of dishes... random bottles, cans, and fast-food bags laying all over the living-room... someone used one of my drums as an ashtray or something... and there's this bizarre smell coming from somewhere, the sickly-sweet scent of death that permeates this bachelor-pad (and my very soul), yet we can't figure out where it is coming from...
*sigh*
And the REALLY fucked-up thing, is that none of the mess really belongs to the two guys who live here... left to our own devices, he and I are relatively tidy... If we see something out of place, we just put it back... We're not obsessive-compulsive or anything, we just prefer to pick up a little bit here and there over letting it go and having to spend an entire day deep-cleaning everything.
Nope, the mess isn't our's... it's the bastard-child of this non-stop cavalcade of drunks and pot-heads, who come over to our apartment to hang out (because they can't think of anything else to do at 3:00 in the morning)... so they come over with their fast-food, dirnk a few beers with me (or smoke a few bowls with my roommate), and then they just bounce... leaving whatever they brought with them right where they set it last.
It's not that I don't like my friends coming to visit... I love them all like they're my own brothers and sisters, and never get tired of hanging out with them... I just sometimes wish (on mornings... err... afternoons like this), that all of my friends were dead.
must... clean... apartmennnt...
This sucks... finally get a day off from both of my jobs, and I wake up to an apartment that me and my (equally busy) roommate have been neglecting for the past couple weeks... sink full of dishes... random bottles, cans, and fast-food bags laying all over the living-room... someone used one of my drums as an ashtray or something... and there's this bizarre smell coming from somewhere, the sickly-sweet scent of death that permeates this bachelor-pad (and my very soul), yet we can't figure out where it is coming from...
*sigh*
And the REALLY fucked-up thing, is that none of the mess really belongs to the two guys who live here... left to our own devices, he and I are relatively tidy... If we see something out of place, we just put it back... We're not obsessive-compulsive or anything, we just prefer to pick up a little bit here and there over letting it go and having to spend an entire day deep-cleaning everything.
Nope, the mess isn't our's... it's the bastard-child of this non-stop cavalcade of drunks and pot-heads, who come over to our apartment to hang out (because they can't think of anything else to do at 3:00 in the morning)... so they come over with their fast-food, dirnk a few beers with me (or smoke a few bowls with my roommate), and then they just bounce... leaving whatever they brought with them right where they set it last.
It's not that I don't like my friends coming to visit... I love them all like they're my own brothers and sisters, and never get tired of hanging out with them... I just sometimes wish (on mornings... err... afternoons like this), that all of my friends were dead.
...also, i need info:
1) are you in town, if so for how long, or if not, when are you coming back?
2) e-mail addy and phone # please! click contact on my profile and e-mail me them, this way we can all stay abreast of what is happening with SGSTL
3) what do I have to do to get you to an event? Shalome offered buying us all SG buttons...
...your leader has spoken!