Would your apartment pass the city’s restaurant inspection test? Of course not. You live in filth and even if you make an effort at tidying up every now and again the fact remains that here in New York City a thin layer of doody covers all, even the actual doody you do your best to step over as you move around town. Your surfaces play host to an orgy of bacteria, where the grossest of germs satiate their sick desires in a frenzy of deviant pathogenic passion. At night when you sleep the rats and roaches come out and dance a dervish of delight on your countertops as the vermin version of ‘In the Hall of the Mountain King’ plays in the background. The only saving grace is that you never prepare any food for yourself at home, so you can pretend that whatever has been delivered is coming from a kitchen where they actually make do an effort to keep things clean (although deep down you are pretty sure that they do not). Anyway, this guy’s didn’t either, so don’t feel so bad about how disgusting you are. You’re pretty disgusting though.