Mancave in the District, futon for a bed,
Cost three grand a month to lay his dumb head.
The cracks in the ceiling looked down where he lay,
Eight flights of neighbors will crash through one day.
His hovel a castle, that what he will think.
No women come by, people think he’s a twink.
He puffs out his chest, with his doors all locked tight.
But is scared to do laundry. He’s avoiding a fight.
Sweet lava lamp dude, that’s what no one will say,
The stench of asshole keeps the bitches away,
One finally talks to him, he hopes she will stay
Checks his balls at the door, will watch Castaway.
Bless Screwey and his tenement of disrepair.
So shitty, even AP wouldn’t live there.
Seriously. I check the boss's list in amazement, because somehow this fucker hasn't killed himself yet. I guess it's hard to hang yourself with a shower rod if you share a bathroom with the whole floor
It's not a nice as a manger, but still
Moderator: Jesus H Christ