If only. This chick's been up on my junk since she got here. She's basically a fucking hoarder; she's all about my junk. Got her apartment stocked with it, you gotta wiggle your ass around past piles and towers and boxes of it just to get from the kitchen to the couch, and then there ain't nowhere to sit, anyway, 'cause guess what's got front row seats to the TV you can barely see behind all that shit? My junk.