One man's trash is another man's measure

I really like leaving my shit around the suite. I feel kind of like a cat marking his territory, you know? Everyone else leaves their anonymous little cups and plates and food wrappers lying around, but I think my trash really stands out. Who else's V8 cans and Cheez-It bags would those be? Who else would dedicate the time and apathy to building such imposing sock mountains? That's right, bitch -- that patch of floor by the couch and the laundry chairs is mine.

The world is my litter box.