Moar things plz!
You know, despite us being ever so close, I have been holding out on a little confession to you. I’m a minimalist. I don’t like clutter, I don’t like a lot of stuff around my place. Simple, clean, open. Beautiful.
Clearly I pissed somebody off. Maybe I farted in public one too many times, or maybe I left the lid up on the toilet one too many times, or maybe I shouldn’t have just stepped over that guy who fell on the sidewalk (pretty sure he was faking it anyway… and besides, I had to get to gamestop. Don’t die in front of me on my off time. I’m not at work. I don’t get paid for this ((I work at a hospital))). Regardless, I’m convinced that I’m being punished for my misdeeds… I have been placed with a hoarder.
Yes, my roommate hoards. He hoards a lot of different thing but what harassed me today was his food hoarding. If he sees a deal on food, he buys as much as possible. There are currently 8 boxes of energy drinks (each box has 40ish cans in it) sitting by the entrance to the door.
The reason I was spurred by this blog is because when I walked into the front door I was falcon punchedby smell of smooshy, overripe banana. hawt. I mean, maybe if I were a hormonal chimpanzee, that might turn me on. But I’m not. I gagged.
There’s also the little hoard of smoooshy, black spotted, rancidly sweet smelling banana‘s on the counter: about 4 dozen of ’em too. Don’t be fear, they weren’t rotting away by themselves. It was/is a communal rot. There’s also at least 2 dozen of each: apples, oranges, avacado’s, and grapefruit. There must have been a produce sale. I mean, to his credit, the apartment is so cold that we basically live in a walk in fridge…
Anyway, I couldn’t take pictures of the kitchen because said roommate was happily noming away at one of those nasty banana’s. So, here are some pictures I ninja on and took of the dining room, living room, and what was supposed to be my bedroom:
I’ll start putting the toilet seat lid down tomorrow.