Socks? Okay. But underwear?

My washer-dryer is in my kitchen. Am I the only one who feels weird getting clean underwear from the same room used to prepare food? As I pondered this reality, it dawned on me that, in order to get clean underwear, I must bring dirty underwear into the kitchen. Who the hell came up with this idea?

I had a friend in university whose apartment was about 150 square feet. Her toilet was next to her stove, only separated by a folding brown door. She could sit on the toilet and lower the temperature on the stove, flipping her burgers.

I had an acquaintance that would warm his apartment by jamming a fork into the lever of his toaster thereby forcing it to stay on.

I had a friend who sold all his earthly possessions in order to move to Asia. I bought The Deer Hunter and The Godfather movies (on VHS) from him for four bucks each. He sold everything except his stupid comic book collection and a guitar. He moved back three months later. Right after he got dumped. Fucker . He wanted his movies back. But he wouldn’t pay the twenty dollars each that they were worth. I still have them. Awesome movies.