Living in Filth.
So, my friend Kevin, who is still in college at A&M lives in a house with 2 (I think) other guys.
Story set-up: While I realize this is the norm for college guys, it's still gross. The house is in Bryan, behind Northgate and is quite old. The living room consists of 7 couches, none of which match, none of which are even slightly clean and none of which I would dream of touching with my bare skin (elbow, foot, etc...), some very clever Kramer wall-art and a TV. The floor is sticky. There is crap everywhere. The stickiness continues into the kitchen where there are piles and piles of dirty dishes on top of even stickier countertops. A poker table doubles as a kitchenette - where I am certain no one in their right mind would actually eat. To the right is the "game room". The game room is where they store the kegs for their parties and if they did lots of drugs, this would be where they did it, but they don't, so it just looks dark and scary. Once again, we have couches and chairs...don't actually touch them. You might shrivel up and die. Down the hall, the sticky floor continues. Enter the bathroom and you enter the majesty that is a bathroom that 3 college guys share. Use your imagination. It's disgusting. Kevin's bedroom is actually pretty clean (considering), so we won't judge that too much. He DID let me sleep in his room when I evacuated for Rita...that bia.
Anyways, back to the meat of the story...
So, Kevin's house is filthy. Well, the boys leave for the weekend last weekend. The front door is funky and you have to shut it just right or it pops back open. Well, someone didn't shut it just right. It popped open. The neighbors, upon noticing this, call the cops thinking someone has broken into the house!! Mon dieu!! The Bryan Police, having nothing better to do, arrive quickly. They enter the house and after doing a thorough search cannot decide if the house has been broken into and ransaked or if these guys actually lived like this. After a few phone calls, everything was cleared up and it was determined that my friends live in filth. The guys are so disgusting that police, people who specialize in fighting crime and investigating crimes, cannot even determine if a crime has taken place. I mean, I think my house is gross, but I don't think cops would ever question whether or not I had been robbed.
Mops are our friends.
Friday, March 17, 2006
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