I apologize ahead of time. This apartment is kind of a piece of shit. The landlord often disappears to somewhere that is not actually Bangladesh, so we make do with what we have. In order to utilize the house to its fullest, simply follow the instructions contained in this pamphlet.
If you have made it this far, I can only assume that you have made your way up the increasingly Rickety-Ass Steps to the fourth floor and somehow survived. Congratulations. As you can see, repairs have begun on these recently, and by recently I mean within The Past Year. They will not be finished. This is simply the way of things. Enjoy your trip down these upon your departure from the premises—they are substantially less frightening when declined, although no less dangerous. The doorknob falls off the front door sometimes. This is normal. Your hands will get greasy when you try to put it back on the sharp pokey handle, and you will want to wash them in the sink in the bathroom.
Do not do this.
If you have good vision, you will notice the sink is clogged. Note the beige-to-grey color of the murky liquid—is it not beautiful? One day we hope to find primitive forms of algae or paramecia there. Scientists believe the water in my sink is the closest model we have to the ancient rivers of Mars. So enjoy that. Depending on how long it has been since the last time we attempted to fix it, there may or may not be Drano underneath the sink. Feel free to pour whatever you find down there into the water, the deep dark hell it has become.
So wash your hands in the bathtub, please.
As you enter the Living Room, you will find two Actual Chairs, and maybe a stool or two. There are probably people in them. You can sit on the people if you'd like, or on the floor. But be careful if you're sleeping on the floor tonight, as we’ve had serious bug problem here recently, and thus advise that you use this Batman blanket as a buffer between you and the infested floor. The Dark Knight Blanket is your Silent Guardian, made of synthetic polymers and a nigh unrecognizable type of felt. Bugs do not like it. There are other blankets to make yourself cozy with; beware, however, the wrath of the Gotham Bed Bug.
If you want to cozy up to the TV, be forewarned that you can't watch any of the hundred or so DVDs located under the TV table, because the TV's built-in DVD Player is tired. All the time. We believe it may have Dengue. I spent several hours just the other day trying to get the new DVD player (*found on the street) to work, but it was very frustrating, what with the aspect ratio of household problems and lack of a working remote and me losing interest and deciding to eat a box of Oatmeal Cream Pies instead. Do not be completely discouraged, however—the Glam Rock Tape still works. House Rule: Glam Rock must be watched no less than two times in a row.
*Most of the stuff in the living room was found in the garbage or garbage equivalent (ie. Stoop Sales, "Free" Piles, Our Old Dorms, Wandering Winos et al). You can play with or partially destroy any of these objects, and it’s quite alright with us. In fact, such behavior lends a charming, homespun vibe to the place. We would like our guests to feel as if they are staying at a Bed and Breakfast—one run by baseheads.
Inside the roundish table/cabinet thing in the corner you will find a variety of video game consoles. These vary in vintage from 1985 to the Not-Too-Distant-Past. They are a lot of fun if you can get them up and running, but of course you must first detangle and decode the ratty mess of A/V connectors and controller cables that seem to expand and devour, kudzu-like, all they are in sight of. The video games themselves are hidden in secret locations throughout the apartment, and a general rule of thumb is this: the Older or More Desirable the Game, the Longer You Will Have to Search. If you are at all concerned for the structural integrity of your skull, please do not attempt to find any of these games in my closet. Its topmost regions are incredibly perilous and virtually un-navigable without the aid of a blunt. Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to mount an apartment-wide search for these games—or any other objects of any kind, actually—in either of the Girls’ Bedrooms. They are magnificent and mysterious creatures, my roommates, generally docile and pleasant in disposition, but fiercely territorial when startled. Also, there may or may not be dildos on the floor when you walk in. So once again, for your own safety and the safety of those around you, do not attempt entry into the bedrooms without Express Written Consent.
If you're hungry at any point, it is best to just order something from China Delight. As long as that something doesn't have chicken in it. But if you're broke, which you must be if you're at my house, go ahead and take a look in the fridge. After you unstrap the velcro on the bottom, that is. Remember to put it back the way you found it, or else the place will eventually smell slightly more like old eggs. In the event that this occurs, open a window and get some fresh air. The fire escape is difficult to open, though, and will be of no aid to you in an actual emergency, so I would recommend going up the steps in the hallway to the roof, which has quite a breathtaking view—especially at sunset.
In fact, the roof is really much nicer than the apartment. Maybe you should just hang out up there for a while. I think I'll join you. Maybe we can sleep up there instead. I'm tired of this place.