I love my house, even though sometimes we get retarded like a frat.
So, earlier this summer, some dude pissed in a bucket full of tools that was in the bathroom instead of, you know, pissing in the toilet. My theory is that someone wandered home drunk and decided to relieve himself in a urinal that wasn't attached to anything, and when he realized this, he hurriedly scooted the bucket under the urinal... and then left it there for almost a week, until I found it when I was doing my house job. Stale drunken piss all over galvanized tools. I can't even begin to tell you how awesome that was.
This week we have left over keg beer in the fridge, a housemate who gets hit by a van and ends up in the hospital, a different housemate who ends up in the hospital a few days later due to alcohol poisoning, and then someone vomits into one of the sinks in the second floor bathroom and, two days later, hasn't cleaned the fucking sink out yet.
This... is my house. Filled with disgusting fuckers. I love 'em, but that doesn't make them any less revolting, depending on the day of the week.
WHY is it always the second floor bathroom? Out of all the bathrooms in this house, why is it always the one on my floor? That's all I want to know.
So, earlier this summer, some dude pissed in a bucket full of tools that was in the bathroom instead of, you know, pissing in the toilet. My theory is that someone wandered home drunk and decided to relieve himself in a urinal that wasn't attached to anything, and when he realized this, he hurriedly scooted the bucket under the urinal... and then left it there for almost a week, until I found it when I was doing my house job. Stale drunken piss all over galvanized tools. I can't even begin to tell you how awesome that was.
This week we have left over keg beer in the fridge, a housemate who gets hit by a van and ends up in the hospital, a different housemate who ends up in the hospital a few days later due to alcohol poisoning, and then someone vomits into one of the sinks in the second floor bathroom and, two days later, hasn't cleaned the fucking sink out yet.
This... is my house. Filled with disgusting fuckers. I love 'em, but that doesn't make them any less revolting, depending on the day of the week.
WHY is it always the second floor bathroom? Out of all the bathrooms in this house, why is it always the one on my floor? That's all I want to know.