I was kicked out of my house a couple of months ago. At the time, I was living with 5 other people in a house in Richmond District of San Francisco. My room was small, but comfortable. I couldn't really have dates for breakfast on account of my Twin bed and the 5 other animals with whom I lived. couldn't be trusted not to ruin any or all labido that I had built up all evening. Any woman that slept over was comfortable, or at least tolerant of my situation. My housemates were all guys, all down for a good time, and all characters.
I shared the wall next to my bed with the leaseholder and my friend. He would, based on the width and acoustic absorbtion of that fatefull wall, be the one who kicked me out of the house. He is one of the most physically clever men I've ever met. Towards the end of my residence, I was in the habit of smoking irresponsible amounts of drugs that he would sell to me at a "discounted" rate. This may Across the hall from me lived the Peruvian. To this day, I'm not sure if he was legally in the states. He kept to himself for the most part and I could hear his girl giggling and moaning from time to time through the door. It always made me smile.
This article had to be split up among three posts due to length. I decided to go from top to bottom, floor by floor.
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