MINE. NO TOUCH-Y
So, I like to think of myself a fairly generous person; I’ve even been known to share noms on occasion… Food, fine, but I’m draw the line at toiletries. I found a pubic hair on my soap today.
Sick. Dear pubic hair, I don’t know how you got on my bar of soap, but never again. You might be thinking “well, couldn’t it be yours?” No, dear friends. I am a well groomed man. That shit be trimmed. No sprawling manscape for me. That leaves one other person in the household. Unless, of course, there is a burglar who breaks into apartments, uses peoples showers, and leaves pubic hair on their soap. Maybe the burglar is in cahoots with the vomit birds. Who knows?
But, I’m just thinking it’s safe to assume that my roommate is pubic’ing up my soap. I mean, dear roommate, I already know that you’re using my toothpaste because I am nearly obsessive about squeezing my toothpaste from the end. No squishing in the middle and separating the paste. You, on the other hand are a toothpaste smoosher. I always find my poor tube of toothpaste like an amorphous lumpy mangled piece of playdoh. Sad day.
How I leave my toothpaste:
How I find my toothpaste:
I mean, feel free to use my stuff, but please be sneaky about it. Let me play the ignorant card. Nobody likes finding a big ole pube in the morning…. especially on your bar of soap. I mean, I suppose some people might like that little gem to greet them in the morning… but, unfortunately, it just made me feel nauseous and unclean. Soap is supposed to make me feel cleaner, right? Perhaps I’ll have to start protecting my defiled soap, and smooshied toothpaste… Cause I can’t have roommate (or the fabled pubic-soap burglar) skeevin’ up my bathroom stuffs.