Over the weekend, Randy caught a roach in a cup. When I woke up Sunday morning to go to the bathroom, I noticed this dirty little critter on top of the toilet, staring at me motionless through the thin plastic layer of an upside down plastic cup. It seemed as if Randy had masterminded the end of this poor pest's life by simply leaving it somewhere his favorite bug killing roomy might find it. A few taps on the cup gave it some possible sense of escape, but it was all but futile. As soon as it went for the upper tier of the interior ridges that lined it's once safe haven, the hand of a demigod snatched the goblet and shook it's denizen into its final place of rest, wet and tumultuous. Swirling , the beast made a sad attempt to regain footing on the porcelain surface. UNSUCCESSFUL.
I piss on your grave, bug, and so does everyone else that lives in this apartment.
