End of the 19

Enter the twilight years.

I used to fantasize about some ruthless developer wanting to bulldoze the 19 Bernard into a golf course, thus prompting the lot of us to go on a Goonies like escapade to find a one-eyed Willie. I forgot to consider the inevitability that we would just grow out of it in the end. You know, like hippies and shit.

So, three of the four roommates have confirmed that they are leaving. As the seasonal caretaker of the place, I feel the need to resist to this current trend. So, unless two or three really cool people have something to suggest, we’ll have to change the name of this blog. Although a part of me truly wants to adopt a somewhat healthier lifestyle, I still feel like I need the folly of others to keep me in check.

So yeah, whoever you are, you have one day to reply. Otherwise, I’m buying some bachelor pad deep in Ikea hell. And chances are, the great beast will have digested me before I could ever stab it in the heart.