I was moving the last of my things from our old apartment and my roommate graciously agreed to help me move the heavy stuff (my bed, dresser, and the like). She commented on how many shoes I own (I had left around 20 pairs in my room because I didn't have enough room in the truck the day before) and I remember saying something about those who can't and shopping - probably not that funny but whatever.
We chatted amicably and I almost forgot why I hated her so much/why we didn't get along and we ended up having one of the most pleasant conversations. As we were leaving she asked me an innocuous question (something about whether or not a certain toothbrush that was in the shower belonged to me)and I shot back a spiteful remark (something along the lines of that more something that her dirt bag boyfriend would probably do...) and I remembered that I am really unable to just let sleeping dogs lie...
In other news, I think I'm going to venture out to the gym today, or course, like sex, it's been so long that I've most likely forgotten what to do - it stands to be seen exactly how that works out.
Showing posts with label Mean Girls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mean Girls. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Friday, July 20, 2007
Oh, Like a Blended Fruit Drink?
Team Gingerbread: I'm not sure if I like the new chick...
AirQuote: Who? Why not?
Team Gingerbread: Well, for one, she's wearing smoothies
AirQuote: What are smoothies?
Team Gingerbread: Jeans with no ass pocket
AirQuote: Oh my. That's a definite fashion misstep
(cue maniacal laughter)
Unrelated: it's Harry Potter Day!
I think we all secretly read postsecret so we can silently judge others [raymi the minx]
That is all. Have a good weekend!
Thursday, January 04, 2007
It really never gets old, unlike your lady friend
The Archaeologist has confided in us about his lady problems/asked us to myspace stalk his lady friend in order to suss out our initial impressions of her.
Somehow along the course of our interrogations - it really was like 20 questions - it came to light that this lady friend in question was 30*. Really not a big deal, except that The Archaeologist is 22 (and still lives at home). I'm all for the older woman-younger man shenanigans, I only hope that when I'm thirty I have a man friend who is in his early twenties, but I'll pick on any perceived insecurity.
My new favourite game as of late has been to make fun of their age difference:
Team Gingerbread: Oh why did you rip that bartending school poster down?
The Archaeologist: Isn't it obvious (motioning towards the haggard poster)
Team Gingerbread: Oh, are you saving it for S so that she has something to do after retirement?
Team Gingerbread: Yeah, you should probably hit that before S goes through menopause.
The Archaeologist: Just you wait till tomorrow night when I get gnarly, and you'll see how long I can last!
Team Gingerbread: Save that for S why don't you?
and I think it's getting out of hand. TA is actually getting quite annoyed with the constant burns and subsequent high-fives. I think I'm just trying to get as much ribbing in before he leaves.
I suppose this is my little way of saying 'I'll miss you'
...either that or I'm a bitch.
*For the record I'm hard on any of my friends who engage in a may-december romance, regardless of gender.
Somehow along the course of our interrogations - it really was like 20 questions - it came to light that this lady friend in question was 30*. Really not a big deal, except that The Archaeologist is 22 (and still lives at home). I'm all for the older woman-younger man shenanigans, I only hope that when I'm thirty I have a man friend who is in his early twenties, but I'll pick on any perceived insecurity.
My new favourite game as of late has been to make fun of their age difference:
Team Gingerbread: Oh why did you rip that bartending school poster down?
The Archaeologist: Isn't it obvious (motioning towards the haggard poster)
Team Gingerbread: Oh, are you saving it for S so that she has something to do after retirement?
Team Gingerbread: Yeah, you should probably hit that before S goes through menopause.
The Archaeologist: Just you wait till tomorrow night when I get gnarly, and you'll see how long I can last!
Team Gingerbread: Save that for S why don't you?
and I think it's getting out of hand. TA is actually getting quite annoyed with the constant burns and subsequent high-fives. I think I'm just trying to get as much ribbing in before he leaves.
I suppose this is my little way of saying 'I'll miss you'
...either that or I'm a bitch.
*For the record I'm hard on any of my friends who engage in a may-december romance, regardless of gender.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Bitches 'R' Us
On a customer's outfit (after she left the store, obviously)
Team Gingerbread: What is that, a skating outfit? She's like white trash in training or something!
Cute 'n' Fresh: Right now she's overdressing, which in the long run leads to underdressing.
On girls who need their boyfriends' approval before buying anything
Team Gingerbread: Why does it matter what he thinks, is he going to be wearing it?
Cute 'n' Fresh: I know it's just like 'Baby, is this going to look good balled up on the floor beside the bed?'
(both laugh)
On relative proportions
The Pansy: My boobs shrunk
Team Gingerbread: Is that a problem?
The Pansy: Yes!
Team Gingerbread: Dude, your boobs are still huge!
The Pansy: Maybe that's why my nipple hurts, because it's sad.
Team Gingerbread: You're ridiculous.
later
Team Gingerbread: Are you going to wear [the new] shirt on Saturday. That way you can seduce The Archaeologist
Team Gingerbread: ...Of course he'll never be attracted to you because of your tiny boobs
The Pansy: Oh, I totally forgot, that's true!
Team Gingerbread: I was kidding
The Pansy: No, you're right they are tiny now I can fit my boobs in my hands
Team Gingerbread: Your hands are tiny! Are we talking both hands on one boob?
The Pansy: Yes
Team Gingerbread: (laughs) Just don't complain about boob size around AirQuote
Saturday, December 30, 2006
The voice of reason
The Archaeologist: Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you swear before...
Team Gingerbread: Are you fucking kidding me?! Every motherfucking second word out of my mouth is a swear word.
I just wanted to know exactly when it became acceptable for people to tote their dogs around with them everywhere they go. I mean, I shouldn't really have to explicitly state that unless you're fucking blind, you don't need a dog at your beck and call while shopping, no?
Just who do you think you are, Paris Hilton circa 2002?
The Pansy: Unless you're towing your dog around in Louis Vuitton, leave it at home!
Team Gingerbread: Are you fucking kidding me?! Every motherfucking second word out of my mouth is a swear word.
I just wanted to know exactly when it became acceptable for people to tote their dogs around with them everywhere they go. I mean, I shouldn't really have to explicitly state that unless you're fucking blind, you don't need a dog at your beck and call while shopping, no?
Just who do you think you are, Paris Hilton circa 2002?
The Pansy: Unless you're towing your dog around in Louis Vuitton, leave it at home!
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Lurkers for hire
Because The Archaeologist cares what we think of his potential ladyfriend(s), he asked both myself and another one of our coworkers to lurk on his crushes myspace page and tell him what we thought (because we're both incredibly jaded and brutally honest).
He initially met her around Hallowe'en and she gave him her number but he was drunk out of his mind and forgot where he put it, only to find it months later in the 'pocket where you put a handkerchief' (aka. a pocket square, but whatevs).
He ran into her at the bar again and they chatted and he apologized for not calling her but he had lost her number, numbers were exchanged once again, blah blah blah.
The Archaeologist has a pretty shoddy track record with the ladies and borderline questionable taste (ahem, the manager at a competing skate shop - which, fyi, is probably against the rules) so when he told us she was attractive we intoned that 'we'd be the judges of that' and he then insisted that she looked like one of the models in the WESC catalogue (which is flase - they only look alike in the sense that both are women with blonde hair and blue eyes) and that we'd see for ourselves when she came in the next day.
But it seems asking for our opinions is like opening Pandora's box and once we get going, we just can't stop. It got to the point where he wanted us to stop but we couldn't and he had to excuse himself.
At least we warned him that we're total bitches and impossible to please...
He initially met her around Hallowe'en and she gave him her number but he was drunk out of his mind and forgot where he put it, only to find it months later in the 'pocket where you put a handkerchief' (aka. a pocket square, but whatevs).
He ran into her at the bar again and they chatted and he apologized for not calling her but he had lost her number, numbers were exchanged once again, blah blah blah.
The Archaeologist has a pretty shoddy track record with the ladies and borderline questionable taste (ahem, the manager at a competing skate shop - which, fyi, is probably against the rules) so when he told us she was attractive we intoned that 'we'd be the judges of that' and he then insisted that she looked like one of the models in the WESC catalogue (which is flase - they only look alike in the sense that both are women with blonde hair and blue eyes) and that we'd see for ourselves when she came in the next day.
But it seems asking for our opinions is like opening Pandora's box and once we get going, we just can't stop. It got to the point where he wanted us to stop but we couldn't and he had to excuse himself.
At least we warned him that we're total bitches and impossible to please...
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
The Size Racist
Work was relatively dull as usual, except that I managed to hang up the phone as rudely as possible on my boss (I thought it was [redacted] harassing me with some useless information that most likely could have waited).
I managed to encounter my least favourite type of customer - The Size Racist, or a girl who insists that she's a certain size when it's clear that she isn't anymore. "I mean, I'm sure at one point you were a 24 honey but that was when you were 12!"
The Scene: The skinny jean wall by the fitting rooms, her pushy mother forces 6 or 7 items into her hands, boldly ignoring the '3 items max. per change room' signs.
Team Gingerbread: What size are do you need (while mentally sizing her up for the 28s)
The Size Racist: 24
Team Gingerbread: We don't have any 24s, we do have a 25 but that pair is almost $300 because it's premium denim, how about a 26? (even though you will not fit into those)
The Size Racist: Uh, ok...
5 minutes later
Team Gingerbread: How did those work out for you?
The Size Racist: Um, not well. The jeans fit my legs, but not my butt or hips (totally stumped)
Team Gingerbread: (internal monologue - that's because they're too small you idiot!) Oh, well how about a 28?
The Size Racist: (dejectedly accepts a bigger size but only pretends to try them on then scurries out)
The funny thing is, this girl was clearly not even close to being a 24, and I usually can't tell with any accuracy what size people are just by eyeballing them, but I know what a 24 or 25 looks like, and she wasn't it. Unless you're shopping at Old Navy, which seems to eschew the concept of a semi-standardized sizing system from garment to garment, you could at least try on a couple of sizes, especially when it comes to skinny jeans, which depending on the cut, can necessitate going up a couple of sizes.
If it really bothers you all that much you could always cut out the tags after buying them - I mean Christ!
I managed to encounter my least favourite type of customer - The Size Racist, or a girl who insists that she's a certain size when it's clear that she isn't anymore. "I mean, I'm sure at one point you were a 24 honey but that was when you were 12!"
The Scene: The skinny jean wall by the fitting rooms, her pushy mother forces 6 or 7 items into her hands, boldly ignoring the '3 items max. per change room' signs.
Team Gingerbread: What size are do you need (while mentally sizing her up for the 28s)
The Size Racist: 24
Team Gingerbread: We don't have any 24s, we do have a 25 but that pair is almost $300 because it's premium denim, how about a 26? (even though you will not fit into those)
The Size Racist: Uh, ok...
5 minutes later
Team Gingerbread: How did those work out for you?
The Size Racist: Um, not well. The jeans fit my legs, but not my butt or hips (totally stumped)
Team Gingerbread: (internal monologue - that's because they're too small you idiot!) Oh, well how about a 28?
The Size Racist: (dejectedly accepts a bigger size but only pretends to try them on then scurries out)
The funny thing is, this girl was clearly not even close to being a 24, and I usually can't tell with any accuracy what size people are just by eyeballing them, but I know what a 24 or 25 looks like, and she wasn't it. Unless you're shopping at Old Navy, which seems to eschew the concept of a semi-standardized sizing system from garment to garment, you could at least try on a couple of sizes, especially when it comes to skinny jeans, which depending on the cut, can necessitate going up a couple of sizes.
If it really bothers you all that much you could always cut out the tags after buying them - I mean Christ!
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Team [Whipsmart]
Apparently, according to The Archaeologist and [redacted], I can sass (aka. take down a peg) pretty much anyone, anytime with amazing accuracy and comedic timing.
I of course take this to be quite the compliment and am also flattered that TA and [redacted] spend so much of their free time thinking about me.
I think this only came up because TA has decided to grow out his mustache in order to perfect his Hallowe'en costume, and some of my coworkers were excited to see/hear my violent reaction to his new 'perv-stache'.
I delivered, and in the process, TA tried to make fun of me for calling [redacted] 3 times over the course of one night. I quickly put him in his place and replied that I had not, in fact, called 3 times as he had alleged, but texted twice and called once (and I only called to let them know that we weren't waiting for them anymore because we were drunk and bored, so we were heading to the bar).
Then I made him feel bad for ditching out, and threatened to cut him off socially, I feel like a queen bee.
My mother would be proud.
I of course take this to be quite the compliment and am also flattered that TA and [redacted] spend so much of their free time thinking about me.
I think this only came up because TA has decided to grow out his mustache in order to perfect his Hallowe'en costume, and some of my coworkers were excited to see/hear my violent reaction to his new 'perv-stache'.
I delivered, and in the process, TA tried to make fun of me for calling [redacted] 3 times over the course of one night. I quickly put him in his place and replied that I had not, in fact, called 3 times as he had alleged, but texted twice and called once (and I only called to let them know that we weren't waiting for them anymore because we were drunk and bored, so we were heading to the bar).
Then I made him feel bad for ditching out, and threatened to cut him off socially, I feel like a queen bee.
My mother would be proud.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Yes, we are silently judging you
So it's official, I along with the rest of the 'Mean Girls clique' are quite possibly the bitchiest girls in the mall - and getting meaner as we speak.
I opened today with one of the other clique girls and we spent the first hour of work trashing one of the new hires (when we weren't ringing in mad sales that is). Then said new hire showed up for her shift at 11, and we didn't really stop trashing her, although we muffled our voices.
This was probably on the third shift that the new hire had worked and an hour into it, I'm almost certain that she was near tears. I had actually attempted to tone down my snarkiness, but I kind of lost it when one of the shoes we sell wasn't on display and I quietly hissed "We can't sell shoes if [the customers] can't see them!" as she walked past me - which is true, but probably could have been phrased nicely. I was simply annoyed because the previous day I had found 4 shoes that weren't restocked when we sold the display model.
Then I noticed this weird sickly, sweet smell in the back room. I didn't really say anything at first because it was just confined to that area, but a few minutes later I could still smell it and I had a mini lapse of judgement and just asked point-blank "What is that smell?" No one else knew what I was talking about, but I persisted. "It smells like melons!"
"Oh, that's me" said the new hire
"Oh..." came my delayed response
"Does it bother you?" she asked quietly
"Yeah, it makes me sick. I feel like I'm going to throw up!" I said, quickly adding that I was allergic to melons and even the smell makes me want to retch. I may or may not have seen tears begin to well up, but there were customers who needed to cash out, so I left her to her own devices in the back of the store.
I was literally seconds away from asking her to never wear that scent to work again but I really don't think that it will be a problem. She spent the rest of her shift avoiding my gazes and staying out of my way.
We'll see if she comes back to work. Her heinous laugh has gotten on the nerves of pretty much every other employee at the store - it's been likened to that of a wild animal, it's very jackal/hyena-like. It's really no big loss if she doesn't come back, so long as she doesn't state me as the reason for her quitting...
I opened today with one of the other clique girls and we spent the first hour of work trashing one of the new hires (when we weren't ringing in mad sales that is). Then said new hire showed up for her shift at 11, and we didn't really stop trashing her, although we muffled our voices.
This was probably on the third shift that the new hire had worked and an hour into it, I'm almost certain that she was near tears. I had actually attempted to tone down my snarkiness, but I kind of lost it when one of the shoes we sell wasn't on display and I quietly hissed "We can't sell shoes if [the customers] can't see them!" as she walked past me - which is true, but probably could have been phrased nicely. I was simply annoyed because the previous day I had found 4 shoes that weren't restocked when we sold the display model.
Then I noticed this weird sickly, sweet smell in the back room. I didn't really say anything at first because it was just confined to that area, but a few minutes later I could still smell it and I had a mini lapse of judgement and just asked point-blank "What is that smell?" No one else knew what I was talking about, but I persisted. "It smells like melons!"
"Oh, that's me" said the new hire
"Oh..." came my delayed response
"Does it bother you?" she asked quietly
"Yeah, it makes me sick. I feel like I'm going to throw up!" I said, quickly adding that I was allergic to melons and even the smell makes me want to retch. I may or may not have seen tears begin to well up, but there were customers who needed to cash out, so I left her to her own devices in the back of the store.
I was literally seconds away from asking her to never wear that scent to work again but I really don't think that it will be a problem. She spent the rest of her shift avoiding my gazes and staying out of my way.
We'll see if she comes back to work. Her heinous laugh has gotten on the nerves of pretty much every other employee at the store - it's been likened to that of a wild animal, it's very jackal/hyena-like. It's really no big loss if she doesn't come back, so long as she doesn't state me as the reason for her quitting...
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
The Mean Girls & Me
Today is my first day back at work after 4 days off, and I'm actually kind of excited.
I started my new job (working at the all-female skate shop) about a month ago, and according to one of the girls there, I've already worked my way into the 'work clique', which I didn't even really realize we had, but I suppose when you work (or even live) in an all-female environment, that factions form quickly - I mean look at my sorority house, we're all friends but some people are better friends than others.
The girls I work with are incredibly bitchy (but I'm no different) and for the most part, we all get along together and even hang out a lot outside of work. I've never really had a bad day after being reamed out by a customer, because the second an evil or unreasonable customer leaves we have an informal trash-talking session, which is very cathartic.
Not very mature, but I'm not exactly known for my maturity.
We do not, however, have a burn book - shoe bible, yes, burn book, no.
So to set a skate shop rumour to rest: Yes, we are silently judging you.
I started my new job (working at the all-female skate shop) about a month ago, and according to one of the girls there, I've already worked my way into the 'work clique', which I didn't even really realize we had, but I suppose when you work (or even live) in an all-female environment, that factions form quickly - I mean look at my sorority house, we're all friends but some people are better friends than others.
The girls I work with are incredibly bitchy (but I'm no different) and for the most part, we all get along together and even hang out a lot outside of work. I've never really had a bad day after being reamed out by a customer, because the second an evil or unreasonable customer leaves we have an informal trash-talking session, which is very cathartic.
Not very mature, but I'm not exactly known for my maturity.
We do not, however, have a burn book - shoe bible, yes, burn book, no.
So to set a skate shop rumour to rest: Yes, we are silently judging you.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Caught in the act
...Waffle, let me know if you recognize anyone in this (link removed) picture.
The picture is from the girl's MSN space and she's from one of the sororities on campus [Ed. So apparently I jumped the gun, she's from Kamloops and not Edmonton, I figured this out at the same time as Waffle, because she just called to tell me this]. Wanna place bets on which one?
I'm you're looking for a laugh, read this entry (again, link removed).
Sometimes I think that I'm being a bitch, and then I realize that I'm just really, really funny.
The picture is from the girl's MSN space and she's from one of the sororities on campus [Ed. So apparently I jumped the gun, she's from Kamloops and not Edmonton, I figured this out at the same time as Waffle, because she just called to tell me this]. Wanna place bets on which one?
I'm you're looking for a laugh, read this entry (again, link removed).
Sometimes I think that I'm being a bitch, and then I realize that I'm just really, really funny.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Snarkytown, USA Pop. 2
I forgot to add in my rant yesterday about the fucking idiotic questions I was getting last night. Since I was in a terrible mood, I made a concious effort to be as difficult as possible:
Um, is this a coat check? (three separate people asked me this)
Gingerbread: No, this is actually my personal coat collection. I'm really indecisive, so I like to leave my options open.
Where is the ski trip going? (Literally 14 people who were standing under a sign that said it went to Marmot Basin asked me this. Every table also had a flyer announcing this as well.)
Gingerbread: No it's a free trip to Rabbit Hill (a local, crappy ski hill)
Kat was having a terrible day too, and then she decides to tell me that she's figured me out: I am a coconut! I'm brown on the outside, and white on the inside. I laughed. I also found out that the Jason Collett show is on the same night as a party I'm supposed to go to; but if today is any indication, I'll be in no mood for social interaction.
Um, is this a coat check? (three separate people asked me this)
Gingerbread: No, this is actually my personal coat collection. I'm really indecisive, so I like to leave my options open.
Where is the ski trip going? (Literally 14 people who were standing under a sign that said it went to Marmot Basin asked me this. Every table also had a flyer announcing this as well.)
Gingerbread: No it's a free trip to Rabbit Hill (a local, crappy ski hill)
Kat was having a terrible day too, and then she decides to tell me that she's figured me out: I am a coconut! I'm brown on the outside, and white on the inside. I laughed. I also found out that the Jason Collett show is on the same night as a party I'm supposed to go to; but if today is any indication, I'll be in no mood for social interaction.
Misery loves me
...I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me (song lyrics, not an act of desperation).
Wow, I'm in a shitty mood today, and I actually just want to wallow in it. I'm kinda sorta being courted by this guy, and I'm just not feeling it. You're nice and all, but I just don't like you in that way. So when you obviously can't tell that I'm in a shitty mood and you try and crack wise with me, it just makes me angrier...and when you sidle up to me - you're just invading my personal space.
Maybe I should just be upfront with you about this, but I'm so much better at being a bitch; I've gotten pretty good at scaring people away.
I just got back from Vancourver and I'm already in need of another vacation. I'm so inexplicably anxious/stressed-the-fuck-out that I have a wicked case of heartburn. At this rate, I don't even feel like getting out of bed tomorrow, but I have class, work and a social engagement. Although I can probably skip out on that pretty early without anyone noticing.
Want to come to a pity party?
Wow, I'm in a shitty mood today, and I actually just want to wallow in it. I'm kinda sorta being courted by this guy, and I'm just not feeling it. You're nice and all, but I just don't like you in that way. So when you obviously can't tell that I'm in a shitty mood and you try and crack wise with me, it just makes me angrier...and when you sidle up to me - you're just invading my personal space.
Maybe I should just be upfront with you about this, but I'm so much better at being a bitch; I've gotten pretty good at scaring people away.
I just got back from Vancourver and I'm already in need of another vacation. I'm so inexplicably anxious/stressed-the-fuck-out that I have a wicked case of heartburn. At this rate, I don't even feel like getting out of bed tomorrow, but I have class, work and a social engagement. Although I can probably skip out on that pretty early without anyone noticing.
Want to come to a pity party?
Thursday, March 02, 2006
You need to pay attention
controller.controller was just mediocre, I really like them as a band but their set was lacklustre and seemed a little phoned in. You Say Party! We Say Die! was fantastically energetic, and you could tell that a lot of people in the crowd were there for them. The show would have been way more enjoyable if my camera hadn't died before I could take one picture but I digress. I had to leave a tad early because I had no clue what time the LRT stopped running and I didn't want to have to walk from downtown with no jacket and inappropriate footwear.
The hunt for a new roommate has officially begun, and on that note I got the cutest email from this guy named Chase, too bad he's looking to move in in 2 months.
Apparently I put out a vibe that only the sketchiest/creepiest people respond to. I was accosted by this troupe of hippies that reeked of patchouli and had the funkiest (as in bad, not good) white people dreads ever, ew! Then, my rad view of the stage was obstructed by the saddest couple ever. The only way to describe them is, MFEO. They were clearly only together because both of them realised that ther was no one else out there for them; and you just know they have the dirtiest sex ever too. To quote Vice: 'Together they have sex so raunchy that it makes 18-year-old homeless prostitutes gasp in disbelief'
Ugh, our sketchy old roommate just showed up unannounced to 'pick up his mattress'. Um, yeah I think you could probably do that anytime other than 1am. And for the record: you don't live here anymore, so you can't just show up unannounced and expect us to welcome you back with open arms...
p.s. someone may or may not be hooking up on the couch outside my door as we speak. i for sure saw some shirtless guy sitting on the couch and it's taking all my strength to not go in there and satiate my curiosity. wish me luck
The hunt for a new roommate has officially begun, and on that note I got the cutest email from this guy named Chase, too bad he's looking to move in in 2 months.
Apparently I put out a vibe that only the sketchiest/creepiest people respond to. I was accosted by this troupe of hippies that reeked of patchouli and had the funkiest (as in bad, not good) white people dreads ever, ew! Then, my rad view of the stage was obstructed by the saddest couple ever. The only way to describe them is, MFEO. They were clearly only together because both of them realised that ther was no one else out there for them; and you just know they have the dirtiest sex ever too. To quote Vice: 'Together they have sex so raunchy that it makes 18-year-old homeless prostitutes gasp in disbelief'
Ugh, our sketchy old roommate just showed up unannounced to 'pick up his mattress'. Um, yeah I think you could probably do that anytime other than 1am. And for the record: you don't live here anymore, so you can't just show up unannounced and expect us to welcome you back with open arms...
p.s. someone may or may not be hooking up on the couch outside my door as we speak. i for sure saw some shirtless guy sitting on the couch and it's taking all my strength to not go in there and satiate my curiosity. wish me luck
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