Chris Hoshino-Fish & The Hut

So I live with 5 other guys. It's disgusting. No bullshit, no excuses, no covering up the layers and layers of shitty beer on the linoleum, no pretending that the stack of dishes in and around the sink isn't rapidly turning into a breeding ground for swine flu, and certainly no lying that I don't give a fuck. It's insane, like, I think “Man, you live here. You should clean up” and then I smoke some weed and jack off instead. Priorities dude, priorities.
And shit just keeps happening to our house that we're not expecting. One day we wake up to find two mexicans tearing down the front supports of our house. Naturally, I ran out with my shotgun and demanded to know what the fuck was going on. They calmed me down, however, with their soft latino accents and showed me the live termites devouring the supports. The supports to my room. Thank you, responsible landlord. Two days later, some creepy guy in a suit came snooping around our house. He was white, so I left the shotgun inside, which in retrospect wasn't a good idea. This suited up yuppy was here to explain that unless we got a work permit for the termite execution taking place, me and my roommates would be kicked out. What the fuck is that? You let a couple mexicans come up, take care of some termites and shitty wood, and the man tells you its time to vacate. Hell no. I bought that shottie for a reason.
Anyway, the work permit was acquired, but now the mexicans have disappeared. The supports are kinda finished, but I've still been sleeping downstairs. In the living room. In the cold. With the shotgun. Don't fuck with Texas.