My roommates bicker like small children. Earlier today, Ben asked Tony to clean the bathroom. I have my own master bath attached to my bedroom, so I'm not involved in this, at least not directly. Tony comes to me, and says, "There are a pair of briefs with skidmarks in the bathroom, they have been there for days, and they are not mine. I am not cleaning the bathroom."

Apparently the caustic underpants belong to Ben. Tony told me later that he toed them over to directly in front of the door, so that they would not be missed when anyone entered or exited the bathroom. I am glad to have my own bathroom. It's a good place to shit out all of the passive aggressiveness that I get to soak up.

It just never ceases to amaze me that grown men can act like such babies. Not that women would necessarily be any better, but I promise you that I have never met a woman who would leave a pair of skidmarked drawers out in the commons of the house. I told Tony after all to just tell Ben that he had no intention of cleaning the bathroom. I'll probably be the one to relay that information, anyhow.

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