My Homely Home - Part 3.

Welcome to the third and final installment of my apartment review series. I hope you enjoyed reading about it far more than I enjoy living in it!

Okay, when we last left off we were just finishing up in the grandiose family room. Let’s take a left back into the corridor. Pay no mind to the feline that has once again jumped onto your leg and pierced your skin with her claws. Simply shake her off as you string together a series of obscenities and she will immediately scamper off.

Here is a picture of my cat, Billy. She looks mellow, but

she's probably just tired from scratching up everything in 

our apartment then climbing up on the kitchen shelf to

knock the salt and pepper shakers behind the fridge where 
I can't reach them. Billy, I hope you read this, you dick.

After walking for what I imagine seems like forever, but is actually only about four feet, take your first left. You’ll find yourself in the foyer of the lavatory. The first thing you may notice is the intriguing aroma. The fragrance you smell is that of a week and a half of cat feculence in the litter box located on the floor to your left. If you happened to have hung any coats made of particularly scent-absorbent materials on the hook directly above the litter box you may be savoring that smell later on.

Well let us carry on because the bathroom boasts more even more features than just rancid cat shit! Give the door a decent push to get it over the large patch of masking tape that covers the section of floor where the vinyl was ripped up. Don’t worry about closing it behind you because the master bathroom doesn’t emphasize privacy. This is due to the door frame being so shifted that the latch doesn’t catch when it shuts.

Do you enjoy shaving in the kitchen? If you answered “YES” or “What the Hell?” to the previous question, then this is the apartment suite for you. With no electrical outlet located in or anywhere near the bathroom, you get to(have to) take your grooming on the road! And shaving in the kitchen is just the first stop. Maybe the misses will make a little stop over in the bedroom for a tryst with the curling iron? Or maybe she wants to straighten that shit out in the hallway. It’s like going on an adventure every day!

Here is my girlfriend in our bathroom, pretending to

be pregnant. However, at this point in our lives we

just weren't ready to pretend to be parents. After

MANY long and difficult conversations we decided

our only option was to have a pretend abortion.

 As we exit the lavatory, in case you used the toilet be sure to hold down the flush lever for roughly 10 second, otherwise you’ll be in for a nice treat waiting for you the next time you visit the facilities.

*Spoiler alert: it’ll be your poo.

All right, out we go. On our way back to the hallway you may noti-- Oh would you look at that, the cat is squeezing out a little turd just for you. She’s looking at you. Don’t break eye contact or else you’ll just give her the power. Once she’s done just keep moving.

**OK, that should be the last mention of feces in this blog post. There’s like a 90% chance that we won’t come across any more fecal matter in the apartment.

Continue down the hall until you reach the end and take a left into the master bedroom.

The first things you’ll notice are the beautiful ultramarine walls. These dark blue walls combined with the lack of light from being in a basement give tenants that much sought after illusion of drowning, that makes falling asleep a breeze. 

Oh, I probably should have mentioned when you came into the room to avoid the urge to flick that "light switch" because it is actually a power switch for the whole room and will reset your alarm clock. Although, even if you don't flick the switch there's a good chance the cat will unplug the cord from the wall while you sleep anyways. 

But don't fret over accidentally sleeping in, because much like the living room, the bedroom has it’s own built in alarm clock. Every morning at about 8a.m. you’ll be awoken by the shrill screams and swears of an exasperated mother blaring through the ceiling from the floor above.

I guess SOMEHOW staying up playing obnoxiously loud video games until all hours of the night, annoying the shit out of me, leaves the child too tired to wake up in time for school.

The boudoir’s best feature is definitely the queen-sized bed, which is large enough for even the biggest of queens to sleep comfortably. Its sizable dark cedar headboard not only looks beautiful, but also does an excellent job of covering the mold patches that seem to be growing on the rooms rear wall.

If you look under the bed you'll find cardboard stand ups of the Incredible Hulk, Darth Vader, and a Tuscan Raider, waiting patiently for the day when they will once again be displayed proudly in a larger home.

 

Well that's probably just about everything I need to say about my apartment. It may seem like I'm complaining and that everything sucks, but  actually been pretty good to me. It's a decent little apartment. A decently shitty little turd of an apartment.

*That last line doesn't count as mentioning poo, since it was an analogy.

Though you can't spell analogy without "anal". Think about THAT!

...but don't think about it too hard or you'll probably realize it makes absolutely no sense, and that this is just a lame incoherent and rambly end to an equally long-winded and nonsensical blog post.

Overall I would give my apartment a 8.5 out of 10. 

As in you have an 8.5 out of 10 chance of contracting lung cancer from the asbestos that surely dwells in every corner of my home.

As far as livability, well that's probably closer to a 10. ...out of 100.