I cannot believe that you invited me back to your place knowing that this was plopped in the center of your bedroom. It's like if Pizza the Hut was made out of t-shirts and boxer shorts instead of pizza. And, it's repulsive. It's might even be alive; I'm not entirely sure and I'm too afraid to investigate.
I'm trying not to stare at it because who knows what terrible, evil things lurk inside. I even cupped my hands over my eyes and averted my gaze when you joked, "And, this is where the magic happens!" when we entered your room. The only magic you did was to make my interest disappear. And, that just makes me sad.
8 comments:
lol that commercial is the worst.
Magic? I take girls to my bedroom and say, "And this is where the SCIENCE happens!"
...and then I throw the switch that causes my laundry to arise, alive, and destroy the village.
HAHA! I want to go there.
I'm beginning to question your judgment. Aren't there signs pre-heap? A faint whiff of mildew when he opens the car door? A crinkled under butt-pocket? Diet Coke bottles in the car > 3?
... of course, this assumes he opened the car door.
NO! There weren't any signs! That's what made it so shocking.
... I mean, I have a pile of old-nachos, videogame cases and other-womens'-hairballs but not LAUNDRY.
Anna just found perhaps the most self-conscious part of my household. My hamper is frequently at the washer, and I tend to have at least a mini-pile in the corner. Even when my room is clean. Is this a for-real interest-breaker?
Also.. are you in my head?
Let me just say that I went into a guy's room and there was a pair of tighty-whities on top of a huge heap of dirty laundry right in the middle of his room. Do you know how gross that is?
I mean, to see his dirty underwear like that was just...I'm gagging just thinking about it.
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