My House is a Poop Den

Yesterday, for some reason unbeknownst to me, my squatmates and I decided to clean our house for the first time in nearly a year. To be fair it was pretty disgusting, but if you ask me we were all doing just fine living  amongst the rotting garbage and shards of broken glass. I was even getting used to the ever-lingering stench of dead mice and cat piss. But no, we had to go and ruin everything with our desire to be normal. And what did it get us? It got us a giant bag of poop and a buttload of GLOOM, that’s what.

Seriously though, yesterday during our spring clean we found a bag of poop in our living room. Like literal human feces. Poop. In our living room. For real. Well, if you want to get technical I guess it was actually a potato sack filled with both poop and onions, but you get the idea. Apparently my squatmate Simon dragged the bag in off the street when he was drunkassuming it was a bag of potatoes discarded by the fruit and veg stall nearby our house. He didn’t realize that it was actually just a giant bag of shit and some random onions. But I mean, honest mistake, right? It could have happened to anyone. Or not.

But what I want to know is, who poops in bags and then just leaves them lying on the street? And even more importantly, who finds these random bags of poop and then brings them home and stores them in their living room for weeks at a time? Our house is gross. When I asked my fellow Squallyoakians how it was possible that all of us failed to notice or smell the bag for such a long period of time, Dale responded, “Because our house smells like shit anyway—one extra bag isn’t going to make a difference.” True say, Dale, true say.

The only good thing that came out of the bag of feces was getting to see the look on Kerri and Lauren’s faces when they heard the news. They were on acid, and after the discovery they spent the rest of the day laughing and then crying because they were laughing so hard, then laughing again at the fact that they were crying, and repeatedly asking, “Wait, is there actually a bag of poop in our living room, or are we just tripping?”



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