Evicting Mr. I Don't Know

The time has come, Mr. I Don't Know, to pack your bags and
hit the road. I don't care where you go. How about a few months
with your shiftless cousin, Mr. Not Me, over at the Family Circus?

"Why must I leave?" you ask? It has come to my attention that
things would run more smoothly without you here. This is a partial
list of your offenses:

• Mud tracked through the living room, kitchen, and basement.
• Wet swimming trunks in the laundry sink for 2 days.
• Used paper plates left on the cutting block.
• Nintendo controller cord stretched across my office door.
• Thingamajunk appears 5 seconds after cleaning off a surface.
• Pee on the toilet seat.
• Pee on the toilet lid.
• Pee on the floor.
• Dirty clothes thrown beside the hamper.
• Big black handprints around the light switches.
• Mini Chips Ahoy bag on the floor by the TV.
• 8 pairs of shoes by the front door.
• 4 walkie talkies on the kitchen counter.
• Empty toilet paper roll.
• Empty fruit roll-up box in the pantry.
• Crushed Apple Jack on the kitchen floor.
• Open bags in cereal boxes.
• 3 out of 4 phones not on the chargers.
• 4 squares missing from new Hershey's Dark Chocolate bar.
• Empty BBQ chip bag in the pantry.
• 2 pairs of underwear on the bathroom floor.
• Blanket on the floor beside the couch.
• GameBoy DS, SP, & metal & canvas cases on back of couch.
• Debit card used, but no receipt or checkbook entry.
• Cell phone scavenger hunt.
• Missing MP3.
• Missing CD player.
• 4 motherboards lined up under living room window.
• Faces drawn in dust on TV screen.
• Crack in glass collector's case.
• Superball in bathroom sink drain.
• Tootsie roll pop stick in houseplant pot.
• All-in-one printer quit feeding paper. You were last seen with it.
• DVDs missing from cases.
• Sound turned to max volume on TV.

It might be different, Mr. I Don't Know, if you could help me solve
some of these mysteries. Or at least help me correct the problems.
But you just look at me blankly, like everyone else, eyebrows raised.

And as far as that Hershey bar that Hillbilly Grandma bought me,
telling me that you only took one piece (well, yes, you admit, it
happened to be 4 squares but they were all in one piece) and you
really didn't even like dark chocolate anyway so you quit eating it
does not help your case in the least.

Oh, and when I mentioned that you should pack your bags...we both
know there is no need of that, because they have been sitting against
the wall on my side of the bed since you got back from your last
trip one month ago. I'll merely move them to the curb, just before
I kick you there.

Hit the road, Jack, and don't you come back no more! Y'hear?