Three days ago, among the skyscrapers of toothpaste in the medicine cabinet of my bathroom, I found a cockroach. I admitted to myself that my roommate was right after all.
After winding toilet paper around my hand, I went after the bug and smooshed it to oblivion under my hand. I grabbed it through the paper and quickly let it go over the waste basket. To my surprise, nothing fell. I looked. There were no cockroach guts on the toilet paper.
I forgot about it.
Today, he was spotted while I flossed. I did not try to get him, as he is obviously some sort of cockroach Jesus.
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