As mentioned in my super rad last post, I recently moved back to my hometown of Omaha, Nebraska. Which is fine. I’m living with a couple friends of mine. They’re good dudes (always have been), but I was, admittedly, a bit nervous to move in with them, only because I had lived alone for awhile, and had grown quite used to it. Rather liked it, actually. But, to my delight, I currently love living with my roommates. Why?
1) it’s cheaper
2) it’s less lonely than living alone (imagine that!)
3) incredible things happen on a daily basis, like
today a silverfish walked into our house and caused quite a stir. When John found it on the kitchen floor, he really lost his shit, and tried smashing it with a Pledge bottle. But he missed, and the silverfish ran beneath the sink.
Then John, a lover of crime movies, really lost his shit. He shot up from the linoleum, and started screaming about how “we have a deal. A deal, man! No bugs, ever, or someone dies.”
I said, “a deal? With who? Who’s dying?”
“With the spiders” John said, really losing his shit. “We let them build webs wherever they want, so long as they keep the bugs out.”
“Are you saying the spiders dropped the ball?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, you idiot. I’m losing my shit here.”
I could tell. And then I remembered something: earlier in the day, Justin (our other roommate) walked through a huge spider web on the side of the house. So I told John that. “Do you think that’s reason enough for the spiders to stop defending us?”
“Of course it is,” John said. “This place will be infested by morning.”