My roommates dont seem to care about the things in life that really matter. Their gods are deep fried and get you drunk. Their currency is stray hairs and piss on the toilet seat. I dont get them.
The day we decided to move in here was over a year ago. Ray showed me the house, said the rent was cheap and the landlord was a nice guy. He didnt do much research, I knew he didnt. He was a procrastinator, I am too.
We moved in on a hot day in August, I didnt stop sweating until October first. Its a hot place. My rage makes it hotter. My rage is sparked by the mess, the house is not a mess, it is the situation.
I leave a dish out and they leave 12 out. I buy milk and it is gone before I know it. I need this milk more than I need air. The dog barks all night. I hate cream soda. Complaints, I have them, I do.
I think I am going to talk to them tomorrow, if I had a gun I would let him talk all night.