Is it wrong to want a little personal space?

Is it wrong to not want to have to get to know people just because they're in your living room every night?

Is it wrong to want to take a hammer to someone's jaw if they play chopsticks one more fucking time?

Alright, maybe the last one is. But still, I'm getting to know how Paul's been feeling the last week. I guess I have a (slightly) thicker skin for this sort of thing. But having some random Papa Roach listening piss artists take up your sofa every night is starting to wear thin even on me in the novelty stakes.

Roll on Autumn, I say.