My roommate-the devil worshiper had horns on his head. But, hey dude, my mom never raised me to make snap judgments about people by the way they look and dress. What do I know about devil worship. Live and let live; that’s my motto. Do unto others, you know, the golden rule.
Believe me, I’m a free spirit and I march to a different drum myself, good buddy. As long as you don’t mind sharing a room with a necrophiliac, we’re cool.
In case you’re wondering, I’m not a serial killer like Jeffrey Daumer, I have a friend who works nights at Angus Scumm’s funeral parlor. He lets me play with the corpses for a sawbuck most Tuesdays and Thursday nights. As long as I don’t muss their hair and their makeup and I get their clothes back on right afterwards, it’s ride ’em cowboy all night if I want to.
What! You already have someone in mind for a roommate. Well, why didn’t you say so?
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