...as to the existence of the fabled LaunDoucheBro. Previously, my counterpart, InfectiousGirl, had discussed at length her in-person encounter with the majestic beast known as LaunDoucheBro. During this harrowing affair, he berated her for daring to take 10 extra minutes before moving her clothes from a washer to a dryer despite all three other washers being free, because he wanted to use ALL FOUR OF THEM for himself — after removing her clothes himself like the skeeziest skeeze in motherfucking Skeezeville and dumping them on the nearby (and frankly kind of funky) table. But, like Sasquatch, I assumed such tales were apocryphal, and that the crypto-zoological nature of LaunDoucheBro meant the discussion of same had no place in serious academia, unlike Captain AngryStamps who lives upstairs and who makes loud banging noises at all hours along with swear-laden shouting (and who I would dearly love to smack across the face with a crowbar — in the name of science, of course), and who is clearly real.

However, tonight, when I went down to put my clothes in the washer, what did I discover but ALL four dryers in use, and one poor girl's laundry load still damp and sitting out on the aforementioned table. Clearly, LaunDoucheBro must be real! I will update this journal after I set out Jack Johnson CD's and pink polos with pre-popped collars in an attempt to bait a trap for the creature. More to come.