Six Degrees o’ Sumthin’

While Sarah is writing on Signal vs. Noise, I’m writing on her site, and my darling roommate has offered to write on mine. Since he’s blog-free, despite my constant urging, here’s the Top Five Reasons why MY Roommate is Better Than Yours:
1. He’s hilarious. He tells people that I used to have 4 cats, but Sullivan ate the fourth. (Trust me, he’s massive.) And see below – he just cracks my shit up on a daily basis.
2. He eats more than any human I’ve ever met. I’m talking over 8 meals a day. If nothing else, it’s a reason for me to stare in astonishment on multiple occasions when I return from work.
3. He deals with me. In the three+ months that we’ve lived together, he’s made me food, helped me when I was a one-armed gimp, dragged up my massive Christmas tree, didn’t complain when I added a sewing machine to his sports room, and even cleaned up while I was festering in driving school the day after my kick-ass Hallo-wienie Roast. I mean, can you get better than that?
4. He kicked my ass at Racquetball. ‘Nuff said.
5. He’s a catch. Girls, I’m taking applications, but this stud-o-matic is prime pickins, I tell ya. And he looks just SMOKIN’ in his Skidz, circa 1987.

Without further ado, I give you my darling roommate…

Since my last guest writing stint was such an overwhelming success…well, actually it wasn’t, but I think Aubrey is just bein lazy, cuz she asked me to write again. Topic of discussion: what it is like to live with Aubrey Sabala.

Back in the summer I had planned on moving in with my girlfriend and eventually settling down. Unfortunately, my girlfriend was raised in the South, and therefore felt the need to have an engagement ring (at age 23, after a mere 17 months of dating) before moving in together. Being a child of divorced parents, I am extra cautious about making such long term commitments. Aubrey needed a roommate to help pay the bills. There you have the formula.

I will start off by saying that I intend this to come off as a ringing endorsement of living with Aubrey. She is as sweet as you would think, and l can honestly say that living with her is one of, if not the most, enjoyable living situation I’ve ever had (keep in mind, however, that her main competition is Jake “the only male with Irritable Bowel Syndrome” Sussman and a college roommate that used to wet his bed).

Before I moved into the house, Aubrey was nice enough to send me a “Welcome Manual” via e-mail. Basic house information was included, as was a scale diagram of the kitchen, detailing the location of measuring cups, spatulas, and cat medicine. I’m talkin’ line graphs, pie charts…the whole deal. This made me nervous….was I moving in with a Nazi Neat Freak? Was she going to scold me if I left a butter knife on the counter? Thankfully, my fears could not be further from the truth. She is so laid back, carefree, and whatever the opposite of anal is (I would say vaginal, but I don’t think that is the antonym I am looking for). You can’t ask for a better roommate.

That being said, there are some things I feel that you should know. Not bad things, just….things:

Make sure you get a separate bathroom. I know she looks cute and sweet and all, but, this girl can drop some BOMBS. There was one the other night that made Hiroshima look like a firecracker. Trust me. You’ll want to steer clear of the vicinity of her bathroom for a good 30-35 minutes after the deuce is loose…actually, I’m just kiddin’…the only bad smells in the house (aside from my bathroom) stem from the Booda Dome – a two-foot high plastic dome where her three cats enter, defecate, and leave. Even Grade A kitty litter can’t contain the odors. Oof. I’m looking forward to being the first one back from our simultaneous week-long Christmas vacations. That thing’s gonna be overflowing with cat feces like that house with popcorn in “Real Genius.”

Cats. Lots of ‘em. I swear, they’re multiplying like Gizmo in “Gremlins.” There’s Samantha, the equivalent to a red-headed stepchild. She’s so timid ’cause her previous owners smacked her around more than Ike did Tina back in the 70s. Sebastian is the bully who tries to run outside all the time. If any of the cats are gay, Sebastian is. And Sullivan is the fatso that we suspect has a glandular problem….think Ruben of American Idol with fur. But, they’re all so laid back…so much so, that I think there’s weed in their catnip.

Be sure to check expiration dates on any perishables in the fridge. When I first moved in back in September, she had a carton of eggs in there with an expiration date of “DEC 05.” I was like, “Are these some new SuperEggs that expire in 1 ½ years?” Then, I realize that they expire December 5th…..of 2002. I’ll have some scrambled eggs with a side order of Salmonella.

I do not want these few minor abnormalities to deter anyone from living with this wonderful girl. [Editor’s Note: Especially tall, hot, single guys with scruffy-ish hair that think I’m sexy as all get-out.] She’s tons-o-fun (see: FunAubrey), is very understanding, and will even let you convert the empty downstairs basement bedroom into a mini-sports bar with your pink recliner and three TVs for football viewing pleasure…

6 thoughts on “Six Degrees o’ Sumthin’

  1. I know she looks cute and sweet and all, but, this girl can drop some BOMBS. There was one the other night that made Hiroshima look like a firecracker. Trust me. You’ll want to steer clear of the vicinity of her bathroom for a good 30-35 minutes after the deuce is loose.

    This is good stuff! I would imagine that this isn’t too far from the truth. Especially with all that beer drinking and eating out. WooWoo! PooPoo!

  2. Did you miss the ‘actually, I’m kidding’ part above? I wasn’t going to resort to this, but I feel I must.
    My darling roommate today said, and I quote,
    “Dude, I don’t know what I ate, but I feel like I’m about to give birth through my ass.”
    See who the Deuce-dropper in THIS household is?

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