Ah, the joys of living with a bunch of lads. The fridge full of beer and old milk, the unfulfilled cleaning rota, the 10.3 tonnes of Pizza boxes. But I digress, here then for your reading pleasure are those moments of realisation when you think “Man, i’m living in a shared house.”
There’s toast in the washing powder.
Having the toaster positioned on the counter just above the open box of washing powder isn’t always as good as it sounds, especially when you’re clean pants chafe your ass cos they’re full of toast crumbs.
You’re never out of beer.
The combination of parties and birthdays recently has meant that our fridge has been looking like the stock room at Oddbins. This is made worse by the fact that none of us really drink a lot. People just bring it and it fills the fridge. It’s a hard life.
You have more recycling than the local Tesco.
It’s not so much the cans or bottles - It’s the cardboard. Tonnes and tonnes of it. Walsall council doesn’t come and pick it up.
You own a Spacehopper.
Matt and I dedicate at least 15 mins of our working day to bouncing around our living-room.
You could hide a small camel in the long grass out back.
We really should cut it. Matt did it about 3 weeks ago, but MAN grass grows fast. We’re getting kicked out of here in 5 weeks so the challenge is on to see how long we can get it before we have to fulfil our “maintenance contract”.