How Well Do You Know Your Roommate?

Sharing a space with someone doesn’t mean you’re sharing your soul. Sure, you may know that they prefer their morning coffee with whole milk because that shit is always in the fridge. And sure, you may know that they wear strictly black because of the lint in the dryer. But aren’t we all trying to be a little more connected in 2019?

We’re guilty, too. When we first started living together, we shared a wall and never spoke to each other. We were literally less than 20 feet apart 90% of the time, but we didn’t even know the other smoked the good green. Like most great duos, we were brought together by a shitty dude who did us dirty (thanks Osh) and now we are more or less inseparable. (Have you seen our fuego photos?)

We thought we’d see how much we really know about one another. We hope you’ll do the same with your bud.

What would be Allison’s ideal date?


He would take me to a restaurant where they have bangin’ queso and margs. While I stuffed my face with fine Tex-Mex cuisine, he would regale me with important information like how he voted for Hillary and also thinks Bernie bros are the worst. He would then take me back to a luxury hotel suite where I would have a fluffy robe and silk pjs waiting for me. He would run me a bath and let me soak for a solid 20 minutes. Then he’d put on the soundtrack to Magic Mike XXL and go down on me until I finished.


Her date would buy her a chicken sandwich from the Commodore bang-banged with cheesy ground beef tacos at Tacombi, and maybe bbq at Fette Sau, followed by drinking at some shitty tourist bar in Times Square (shitty because it’s a tourist bar in Times Square but with high end amenities). Her date should then arrange for fireworks to be seen from The Boom Boom Room to toast her success and all around goodness. She should then be taken to their room at The Standard where she will be greeted by the smell of hundreds of white peonies and a fluffy white bathrobe. She will be enamored by the little bottles of Tabasco they serve with room service.

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What is the first thing Beatriz would buy if she won the lottery?


The first thing B would buy would be one of the many bookmarked items from her luxury dark web searches. From what I know, the list currently includes a $1mil watch, a stone incense holder that costs more than our combined rent, and more than one mirror and shelving options. But honestly, the first thing B would buy is a permanent private karaoke room to share with her family and friends because as much as she loves luxury, she loves her people, especially when she’s crooning Moana in front of them.


Well, I do have a whole ass spreadsheet for how I would spend $2mil if I won the lottery, which would make answering this question very easy. First, I would buy real estate in Bed Stuy and upgrade all the apartments I’m not living in so that I could charge my friends reasonable rent and we could all live in the same building. It would be the perfect premise for a sitcom, which I will obviously air on my own network (I have some grand, Oprah-sized delusions obviously). Then I will continue to buy all the ridiculous things I’ve bookmarked but can’t afford. Jil Sander’s $300 paper lunch bag. Mies van der Rohe’s Barcelona chair for $5000. Thousands of dollars worth of chicken nuggets. It would be lit

What is your roommate’s favorite junk food?


My favorite junk food is chips. All kinds of chips. Chips for dip. Stand alone chips. Chips as a part of a party mix. Chips from the bodega. Chips from the Walgreens. Tortilla chips like they make back home. I go through seasonal cycles of the following: salt/vinegar, sour cream and onion -transition chip cheddar and sour cream- bbq chip, and repeat.

B’s favorite junk food is obviously Pringles. The other day she told me she bit her lip so hard it hurt trying to eat Pringles faster. When she gets more stoned though, it’s all about the Nutella sandwiches. Slice of bread (toasted if you are mr. moneybags and have a goddamn toaster) and a thicc swipe of that hazelnut goodness. There are some ice cream options on occasion and the mainstay of nuggets and spicy ramen. But those late night bodega runs are all about the Pringles.



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Who would win an eating contest?

Tacos: I would win in a taco eating contest. I would prefer they were all ground beef tacos with shredded Mexican cheese and a smear of sour cream, but you know, a taco is a taco. And as long as they’re all on flour tortillas like they should be, I’m coming out on top. I know B loves a good taco, but listen, when I was 8 or 9 I piled 6 tacos onto my plate and went back for seconds after. (Hard shell, ground beef, shredded cheese)

Chicken: B would win a chicken eating contest. Both in boned and nugget/strip competitions, girl knows her way around a bird.

Hors D'oeuvres: Thought it would be close, I think I would win. If we were tasked with participating in a fancy party and eating hors d’oeuvres, I don’t mind talking with my mouth all the way full of some fried mango bites.

Chili’s: In the case of Chili’s, it would all depend on how many frozen margs we had. If we were competing sober, I think I would win. If there were any margs involved, B would come out on top.  

Tacos: Allison, hands down.

Chicken: If it’s on the bone, it might be a toss-up. If it’s chicken fingers, I would definitely win.

Hors d’oeuvres: We would go for separate hors d’oeuvres, so I’m not sure who would win, but we’re definitely beating the other team. Allison would go for the cheese and crackers, and I would go for the multiple flavors of chicken wings, because obviously, we wouldn’t attend a party unless there were many different kinds of chicken wings. We would both go in on chips. We would take the celery and hummus and stuff it in our purses and take them home for the morning after.

Chili’s: My stomach would cause me to lose the -speed- of the eating contest, but I would definitely come through on endurance.

Important side note: Allison and I never compete in anything because our love for each other is bigger than our Fire Sign Energy.

Fill in the Thank U, Next blanks for your roommate.

One taught her love:

Nicki Minaj

Specifically her Paper mag photo shoot where she is all three people in a three way. I feel like it’s only a matter of time before B recreates this shoot for 2GIRLS1COVEN. And I am obviously here for this.


One taught her patience:

Kris Jenner

The momager has played the long game from the start and B is taking notes. As a fellow business minded badass bitch, B has learned that if you keep all your mother fucking receipts, foster the talent of those around you, and invest in the finest skincare, you can build and empire that allows you to make your ashes into a diamond for your progeny to wear.

One taught her pain:

Crazy Rich Asians

This movie seemed like it would be the fucking one. We’d been waiting for some good Asian representation for ever and this movie promised to deliver. But what it actually delivered is a white washed, classist version of representation. B has had to explain why this is fucked up to all her white friends (hi. me included.) and it fucking sucked.

One taught her love:

Harry Styles

I’m fucked up for not knowing the exact nature of my best bud’s love for Harry Styles — does she want to be with him, be on him, or be with him? I’d safely guess that she will answer “yes” to all three categories.


One taught her patience:

One Direction

Why are they taking so long to get back together!? I can safely assume that Allison has been organizing her archives since Zayn announced he was leaving the group in March 2015. I know when these dudes get to be Justin Timberlake’s age, it’s going to be time for a Spice-Girls-type reunion and the One Direction trivia is going to be popping up like fucking wild mushrooms in an undisturbed wood. She’s going to be ready and y’all won’t see it coming.

One taught her pain:


For making the terrible casting decisions. I’m sorry but MARY BERRY IS THE GODDAMN GOAT, plus Mel and Sue make better introductions than the new hosts, hands down. It’s not like we won’t watch the new seasons because Mel, Sue and Mary are gone, but we’ll also yell at the screen every time for these grave mistakes.

Put a Roomie Meeting on the gcal, lite that J, and tell us how you do.


B & A

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