You've already heard me bemoaning the fact that I miss the people I used to live with. And seriously, I miss them because their presence was familiar, comfortable, friendly, and inviting. Today, though, I'd like to cite yet another reason why I miss living with Jared, Jeff, and Brandon. I like to think that I'm a deep fellow, and interested in philosophical concerns more than the material world. But contrary to my normally enlightened detachment from the world (har-de-har, as if), this reason is very much rooted in the physical world. You see, right now, the reason I miss my former roommate and suitemates the most, is because NONE OF THEM EVER PISSED ON THE TOILET SEAT. The same cannot, however, be said of my current suitemate (also named Brandon, but should not be confused with Brandon Donahue, the aforementioned bathroom-clad, C-SPAN-watching political science major). I swear, with whomever might be reading this as my witness, if it happens again I'm going to verbally flay the skin from his bones, and then start locking him out of the bathroom on a regular basis. And by a regular basis I mean every morning, promptly at eight o'clock.

Thank you, that is all.