Roommate Confessions

You've done some bad stuff to your roommate. It's time to confess.

Roommate Confessions
uPick

82 Snowmen.

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Hi Robin! Yes, you. Oh wait, not you, you're not cool enough to go to this site. Oh well, to everybody else: I had this roommate named Robin, who told me I couldn't make any noise (like talking), locked my cats in a freezing basement, and threw out my furniture and decorations because there weren't enough room for her 82 snowmen in our shared house that *I* found. I kid you not. In the beginning of November, I came home from work and found 82 (I counted) depictions, drawings, statues, carvings, patterns, etc. of snowmen, hanging on the walls, sitting on the tables, embroidered on the 20 or so pillows on the futon she picked out. I couldn't stand living in a place where me and my cats were confined to one tiny room, so I moved out... And the night before I did, I drew little Hitler mustaches on all 82 snowmen with permanent marker. I also masturbated on her bed. Ha ha ha. I hate you, Robin.

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