That's how I lived when I was that age. Living in farm houses and communal type dwellings and such. Bon fires every night and holes in all the walls from fights and just general youthful angst and destruction. I drew the line and moved out when someone decided to start shooting cans of spray paint with a BB gun and the paint got all over my ****. More importantly, it got all over my one and only guitar I had at the time.
It didn't help that one of the guys living there got dumped and played In The Air Tonight for 72 straight hours either.
Good times.
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