Floor.

This is so clearly a bloke's house. A famous television character once said that men living alone are basically 'bears with furniture'. That's always stuck with me, because that's essentially what my house is like. There's an easy way to illustrate this, really -- my goddamn floor. The landlord didn't install any carpet, presumably because it's easier and cheaper to clean up blood and spunk with a squeegee. You should see the fucking thing. It's like a history of every single meal and incident that's ever occurred in our place. Get on your knees (bitch) and check out the grime that litters our once pristine floor. Toast crumbs, bits of hair and dust, miscellaneous pieces of plastic and glass, rubber bands and, inexplicably, a collection of socks underneath the sofa -- socks that don't belong to any of us. The once, probably tasteful hardwood, is now stained by our filth.

Jesus, we should fucking tidy this place.