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That was the last straw. I still remember the deed to this day: my roommate woke up from one of his alcohol-soaked naps, casually picked up the waste basket and puked into it a couple times. I was at my desk writing a paper when I observed this casual atrocity. It was both amusing and horrific at the same time. After a few minutes, though, it wasn’t amusing at all when the putrid, acrid smell began to waft around the room. Seeing that this roommate of mine wasn’t going to do anything about it, I held my breath and promptly took the waste basket out of the room, down the hallway and into the laundry room. I dumped its liquidy contents into the big plastic garbage bin and rinsed out the waste basket in the basin next to the washing machine.