Dear Australian Roommates,

I know you think you are oh-so-funny, but when I come home drunk at 5am, the last thing I feel like doing is shooing one or more of your naked asses out of my bed. And tonight when I was cozily curled up and deep asleep I just about had a heart attack when two of you tried to jump on top of your skivvies. Jesus, I only have a twin bed! And I don't need your junxes free floating in it! The fact that you seemed to really enjoy being chased away with my spiky hairbrush is also deeply troubling.

Does anyone else in the world have this problem?

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