Fat roommate ate all my bread I confess that I adore bread. As is my custom, I took a trip to a local bakery after exhausting my stockpile of bread. Generally, the amount of bread I buy is enough to last me about a week-and-a-half before it becomes too stale for use as sandwich bread. Whatever I have left would usually be repurposed as breadcrumbs or even bread pudding. Enter the roommate. After a few wonderful weeks of solitude, this gluttonous, mouth-breathing...thing...moves in and disrupts the quiet which I cherish so dearly. It was bad enough that the roommate spends most of his free time playing some Yu-Gi-Oh game on his Xbone, talking about how he'll work out more often (but doesn't), or how he rudely watches Netflix with the volume turned up real high, but then this atrocity occurs.  He politely asks (surprising, I know) if he could partake of my bread, to which I foolishly consent. Being engrossed in Archer, which I just recently began watching, I wasn't really cognizant of what the roommate was actually up to. He proceeds to devour three loaves of bread and half a jar of Biscoff cookie butter.  I only realized what happened hours later when I took a break from Archer and got up to make myself a snack. Imagine my surprise when the roommate grins at me and tells me he "thought" I had consented to him eating everything I had. What...the...hell?