“Oh, god, you want to know about what my dating life was like before I met Greg? Two words: Not Good. It’s like all of the guys I met, even though they were in their 30s, were stuck in this weird early-20s mindset. They wore sneakers all the time, they played video games, they drank too much too often, and they never responded to RSVPs and then showed up and expected the person throwing the get-together to accommodate them. You know what I mean? Just careless, stunted boys. I wanted a man. I wanted someone who wore shoes. I wanted someone who planned for the future. I wanted someone who responded to RSVPs. I wanted someone who would look at how difficult it is to find an affordable apartment in Brooklyn that is also located in an area in which you’d actually feel okay living and say, ‘I’ll just live in a dumpster.'” Someone who would take that decision into his own hands, you know! Someone who wouldn’t play by relators’ rules, or decide to live with roommates, as if he were still in college. God, I can’t tell you how many times I thought I was going back to an adult’s apartment only to find what basically amounted to a disgusting, smelly dorm. But not with Greg. With Greg I always knew what I was going back to: A dumpster. A dumpster with running water (if there is a hose around), a BBQ (outside of the dumpster), a shower (outside of the dumpster), a kind of bed, and a toilet in a hole right next to the kind of bed. All built with his own two hands inside of a dumpster he bought. That’s my Greg, and I love him.” – You

How does he protect his dumpster when he is back at his (god willing) normal home on the west coast? Now that he has outed his secret garbage home, how will he protect it from anyone just wheeling it away at night?! How often does he have to empty the toilet, and does the inside of the dumpster never NOT smell like the inside of a toilet?!? GREG! THIS IS NOT OKAY! YOU CANNOT LIVE IN A DUMPSTER, I KNOW YOU TRIED AND I’M SORRY, BUT ANYONE WOULD HAVE FAILED! I promise that no one is actually impressed with your BBQ. Those people are not your friends. I am your friend. Throw away your dumpster and go home! (Via Gothamist.)