Hanging up furry porn prints on the -245rd floor of the Navidson abyss: christ if mom visits I'm gonna have to take all these down
"The Unknown and Unknowable Beast Within This House, please bring your cups up from the depths. We are just about out and I know you tend to hoard them on your desk. I swear, you've probably got three stacks of them.
"Yes "and any other dishes." Of fucking course any other dishes. Kids..."
When the film resumes, an argument is already in progress. Neither party is visible, the camera is positioned as if it was set down, perhaps on a table or cabinet, and left unintentionally running. But voices can be heard, not angry or hostile, but clearly frustrated.
The first speaks with a strange loneliness that makes it difficult to make out. "-don't know where we're gonna get replacement for drywall that's older than the solar system. Can't imagine they stock that at Home Depot"
"So go to Lowe's!" the second voice is clearer. "Or just use normal drywall, why does it matter?"12
But while the discussion continues the closet door, only incidentally in-frame, on the left side of the screen has very slowly begun to open. The argument either ceases or moves out of the range of the microphone, but the door continues to open smoothly and silently and so slowly that at any point it doesn't seem to be moving at all. For an agonizing nine minutes it swings forward toward the camera. It is impossible to tell how long it hangs open3, because when it begins closing again it does so just as slowly.
Once it has finally shut again, the recycling bin behind it, formerly empty, now clearly contains a plastic milk jug and several aluminum cans in a brown paper shopping bag.
Because that's just being a responsible roommate.
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Because it won't match, that's why!
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It won't matter whether it matches once it's painted!
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Maybe for him, but I figured it out last night. Had enough leftover rum to get angry but not enough to get drunk so I sat down with a stopwatch and some kinda lens thing like a magnifying glass with three legs4 that got left in a shoebox with a Rand Mcnally atlas rolled up like a newspaper and a handful of MtG cards that didn't end up being worth anything. Took a lot of rewinding and watching it over and over but the damn door only stays open for twenty seven seconds before it starts closing again cause like why the fuck would it need to be any longer?
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Likely a tripod stand magnifier, often used in biology or geology classrooms.
Notice to Roommates:
Trash day is every Thursday. Trash day means you take your trash to the curb. To. The. Curb. If you can't find the curb, it's outside of the House. If you can't figure out how to leave the House, that's not my problem. You got here, somehow, I assume. Figure it out.
You know what is NOT the curb? The Grand Stairwell. It is not as bottomless as you think. Some days, it has no depth at all. Guess who's left cleaning up piles of garbage both in and out of bags (seriously, guys?) in the Great Hall. Me. Thanks, I hate it.
Oh, to whoever it was last night who decided to throw open a random door so they could scream into the endless crushing void as therapy: guess what? There's no void, just more House. Also, during our night cycle, occupied rooms that happen to have no lights on can often look exactly like the rest of the rooms of vast, unsettling darkness. Those weird moans might just be someone snoring. Which was me, last night, until the scream. Good set of lungs, but maybe try a pillow next time?
We need to talk about the ethernet wiring plan. The map's changed again. I know, I don't like it either but the wifi we've got right now is worse. I've called Comcast three times but this time they swear my address doesn't exist.
House meeting this weekend.
