Eats o late / The smell of another man's shit

Rice, veg, ang beef porridge from Bon Juk - amazeballs

I forget from I forget

Two chammers from Kimbap Chunguk - the classic

  Eat and shit - on some days that's all I manage to get done, it seems.  When left to my own devices, I eat a lot of 'That'll fill up the old crap-factory in the quickest, cheapest, and moderately healthy way' foods.  Tuna on crackers.  Peanut butter on toast.  Sometimes I cook massive cauldrons of soup or stew, then feed off that for days, like pig to trough.  Koreans make some decent soups in the winter.
  Now to the other end of things.  I don't mind when my bathroom smells of shit - as long as it's MY shit.  The smell of my shit doesn't bother me.  Not that it doesn't smell - because it smells like shit, but it just doesn't bother me.  What bothers me is when my bathroom smells of another man's shit.  Or when my bathroom smells like a big miserable shit-smelling symphony, featuring the amazing and varied shit-odors of every resident of my entire apartment complex.  Must be the plumbing in my awesome 35-year old 'Oldest-fuckin-apartment-in-Seogwipo' apartment.  Because when I come home from a long day at the mines and my bathroom reeks of stranger shit, it's not cool.  Just not cool.