“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.)

Comments (38)
  1. I love him because he reminds me of an admittedly less likable Wall-E

  2. that’s really all I could think of.

  3. I’m feeling better about my studio apartment, which only overlooks a dumpster.

  4. Um OK so does he have to pay rent?

  5. Christ! What a dump..ster. What a dumpster! (Whew. Nice save, FLW)

  6. Not my boyfriend. If he went through all the trouble and hard work of living in a glorified trash can but can’t commit to the concept enough to change his name to Oscar, then he can’t commit to a real relationship.

  7. Cool, something new to worry about when I walk by creepy dumpsters late at night. Nevermind finding dead bodies or getting mugged, what if someone jumps and invites me to their tiny BBQ and I’m too polite to decline?

  8. Location, location, sanitation.

  9. When you build a better dumpster, god builds a drunker, more vomitous frat boy.

  10. While I wasn’t as grossed out after watching the video and seeing that he basically just made a camper that looked like a dumpster, I am now more grossed out when I think about campers.

  11. This guy must have a lot of circular conversations.

    “Yeah, I live in a dumpster.”
    “Oh god, I’m sorry, how long have you been homeless?”
    “No, I have a home.”
    “Ooohh. Is it nice?”
    “Yeah, its a dumpster that I…”
    “Wait, so you are homeless?”
    “No, I built my own home.”
    “That’s wonderful! Where is it?”
    “It’s a dumpster.”

  12. Unfortunately I had to dump him because he was getting so much tail.

  13. Now I wonder if last time I was in Brooklyn, I passed him without knowing it. Next time I visit, I’m just going to leave post-its on Brooklyn dumpsters that say, “Greg, get a real apartment.”

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