Of Cockroaches and Apple Peals

These are my initial writings regarding me and my roommate, Chuck. He's a rather large cockroach. We've come to an agreement that I won't launch my shoes, chairs, kitchen knives, chopsticks, bars of soap, and apples at him. In return he won't send his millions of cousins to kill me. This is a good agreement. From time to time I'll be collecting my thoughts on living with this roommate of mine.

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Well, it looks like I have a new roommate. He says his name is Charlie and is as far as I can tell, a near three inch long cockroach. This will be a good night, I’m sure.

No it won’t. Charlie and I have declared war.

Neither Chuck nor I are wanting to sleep and have been hurling insults at each other. I’ve taken to calling my cockroach friend Chuck since early this morning. He does not like that much, I do not like him much either.

Come dawn I will be settling our roommate dispute with dueling pistols and swords.

It has come to both of our attentions that the apartment has neither dueling pistols or swords. We have taken to Shakespearean insults and thumbing our, well thumbs at each other. Since when did cockroaches have thumbs?

Both of us need to brush up on our Shakespeare. Chuck and I have taken to quoting from those Monkey Island games.

"How appropriate. You fight like a cow."

“Look behind you, a Three-Headed Monkey!”

Later that day, Chuck and I realized that each other are decent fellows. He does not want to kill me and I really don’t want to die. So he is stuck as my roommate.

Earlier this afternoon we were unable to acquire a copy of any of the Monkey Island games, we have decided to play Grim Fandango instead.