"His name was Mo. He didn't leave the house for six months and left bottles of piss everywhere. On being questioned on his behavior he meerly mouthed 'Woo!' and shook his bottle." (via Joel.)
Can you beat that? The WORST flatmate stories will be used on B3ta radio this Friday.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:31, archived)
I let a mate kip on my floor for a couple of days at the start of the second year while he sorted himself somewhere to live. 3 months later he sold the interior doors to buy crack, and I found him bleeding preofusely in the bath after chucking my VCR through a window in a drug-fuelled rage.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:34, archived)
I went off the rails a bit for a year.
Still, I kept the kitchen clean at least.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:39, archived)
I go to Cambridge Uni. One thing I have learned for myself and nobody has had to teach me is that no matter how rich your parents are, no matter how much per term your school fees were, no matter how many A-levels you did or how exotic your gap year was, it does not guarantee you will have any social skills whatsoever when it comes to sharing a kitchen.
Really. It makes me consistently laugh. There is one such chap who lives opposite me on my corridor. He's a third year musician, fabulously eloquent, plays for God knows how many orchestras, ensembles, choirs etc. And then he'll get back, cook himself and his pissy friends some overpriced pasta and then leave the stuff in the sink for me to find three days later.
Unfortunately I'm too polite to mention it to him so it's going to have to run for now.
And I think the girl next door might be dead. In no uncertain terms I can confirm that I have not seen her living form in four weeks. I can't even confirm that I've heard voices or movement from her room. It's probably not like she's disappeared off the face of the earth, because the college would have people go out and look for her. And this being her third year it's unlikely that she's dropped out.
I suppose I could tape something across her door which would break if it was opened, thus confirming someone is using the room. Unfortunately the cleaners come every day. Maybe I could find her email address?
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 0:33, archived)
find out!
and tell us!
reply to me when you've found out!
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 3:25, archived)
Update on the situation. I have taped a hair across her door, fairly low down so she shouldn't notice. I did it at about 2am this morning, and it hasn't been broken yet. It's only 12pm though so no worry yet.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 12:15, archived)
is it broken? what will you do if it never breaks?
she hasn't moved out on the very quiet has she?
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 19:51, archived)
Hmm, yeah, I used to do that to see if anyone secretly violated my privacy and opened the box I had stuffed under my bed marked PRIVATE & CONFIDENTIAL. Interestingly enough the piece of cotton I used was always broken, so I set up surveillance using movement tripped video cameras and a rottweiller. Worked a treat.
Do tell us what happens won't you. Why don't you climb out the window and look in hers? Or better still, why don't you just knock on her door and then go in and see for yourself? Erm, too obvious??
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 2:16, archived)
the cleaners come every day, I am sure they would have spotted a decomposing corpse in there
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 14:16, archived)
And let's not forget the many flies that would be all over the place by now.....lovely stuff decomposition.
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 2:09, archived)
Rich cranberry are the worst roommates. once i lived with two such fuckers. One day they decided to be oh so commoner and "cook dinner" with their slag girlfriends. They bought a huge, hardback cookbook just for the occasion, which they used to learn how to cook...pasta with tomato sauce! After their jolly old fun at the stove and thoroughly quaint evening at the dinner table, they left the dishes they'd used in the sink for over a week, including my pots and pans. They obviously decided never to try their hand at cooking again, and the book was left sitting on the stove-top, covered in crusted tomato sauce.
I came home from work one night and asked them to clean their mess up because I tired & wanted to make something to eat. When I came out and saw that the mess was still there, I picked up their cookbook and threw it at them with full force, screaming "you fucking rich zeppelin, clean up my fucking dishes!!"
Very satisfying, and it got a response too.
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 23:30, archived)
the answer is to take said dishes after the allotted 'time-out' period, go to their bedrooms, pull back the sheets and dump the said dishes upside down. Don't forget to pull the shhets back to their original position. Works a treat when they're out on the piss, but in practice whether or not they are actually in their bed at the time of dumpage is irrelevant
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 10:12, archived)
Do what I did. Stop buying bogroll Wipe your arse on the middle of their bedsheet. They wont dare ask you if you did it. I did it for 4 months to the C#Nt. I'm sure he thought that he was leaving giant skidders himself.
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 11:08, archived)
Naa just a c3nt who will go to any extreme for a quiet life.
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 11:22, archived)
What started as a uneasy joke between a few of my friends at Uni (and on this board) has gone a bit out of control and I don't think I should post any more. A few infuential people heard, apparantly, and the police and the college are both involved now.
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 11:50, archived)
they were really nice stained-glass affairs. Needless to say I lost my deposit on that house.......
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:39, archived)
When I was at uni, we did the same thing, i.e. let someone stay, ostensibly for a few days, turned into approx a month. He was a good cook, brought one of his mates round, and left about a week before we went home for xmas. Boxing day, the landlady rang up, "you've been robbed.".
Turned out he was a pimp and a dealer. I did wonder where those lasses were coming from.
My name hasn't been up, either i wasn't too bad or nobody I shared with knows about this place.
(oh, and first post!)
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 20:06, archived)
I regularly forgot to pay the rent, I never washed my sheets, I burnt all my flat mates pans, I never washed up properly.
He kicked me out.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:35, archived)
cranberry
it's people like you who give house shareing a bad name.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:46, archived)
Just eats Tuna and Tinned Tomato sandwiches. JUST that.
He has a vat he makes up using about 5 tins of each in the fridge all the time.
He also always wears black.
Strange guy.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:35, archived)
of vitamin C in toamtoes (even tinned, which is one reason why you shouldn't buy dented tins), so he wouldn't get scurvy. nutritionally, he's got a pretty balanced diet
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:03, archived)
the vitamin c and other acidic components of tomatoes will corrode the metal on the tin, leading to aluminium contamination of your taomatoes. aluminium has been postulated as a possible factor for increasing the risk of developing alzheimer's disease. undented tine have a microthin and intact plastic coating on the inside of the tin. when tins are dented, the coating gets ripped, thus exposing the aluminium to the acids
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:51, archived)
and there was me thinking that you shouldnt buy dented cans because tomatoes get angry when they're squashed!
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 18:01, archived)
and still can't spell "tomato"
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 14:30, archived)
he was talking about Toma Toes. Those are the tastiest eats in Northern Canada.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 16:29, archived)
Singular it's "tomato", and plural it's "tomatoes".
You say tomato and I say tomaaaato.
(, Sat 22 Nov 2003, 20:57, archived)
that the thin plastic coating is causing men to go sterile, due to the synthetic oestrogens contained within the plastic!! So dented or undented, your gonna lose... unless your female.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 18:51, archived)
not only have I asked the same question twice, it has already been answered. And what an answer, so edumacated, not like what I is.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 2:40, archived)
so each week he bought a magazine and used a double page as his plate for each meal, turning to a new page each day.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:35, archived)
of course ... what other publication is there for the discerning gentleman?
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 10:20, archived)
but luckily there was a stall on my way to work which sold 7 pairs for £3.50.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:38, archived)
I went to uni with you after that one :
There was a guy called Mo - couldn't be arsed to wash socks, so kept buyig new pairs - ended up with about 3 months supply I think
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:54, archived)
Poundland do 4 pairs for £1. Woo! That new sock feeling every day.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 10:49, archived)
I think that's the single advantage of going to Uni in Stoke-on-trent...
When my sink was full of washing up(a sink in every room!) I just went out and bought more plates/mugs/bowls from the plentiful supply of china seconds shops...
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 22:12, archived)
I once caught an old flatmate of mine wiping his spuzz up with one of my socks after he'd had a hand-shandy. I got my own back by jizzing on his girlfriend's skirt. She wasn't wearing it at the time, unfortunately.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:57, archived)
He just left his plates everywhere... and i really couldn't be arsed to wash them. But soon enough he won the war... I did wash his plates for him...
with the assistance of my own urine
(, Sun 23 Nov 2003, 22:29, archived)
playing on a gamecube for a whole day from 9 in the morning til 3 at night, eating nothing apart from a can of beans, and a cup of coffee. he then disappeared into his room for three months without being seen once - despite having things burned outside his room, and being asked to pay his rent...
now lives in brighton
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:36, archived)
I'm looking for a flatmate at the moment, and compared to some of this town's malcontents and students he sounds ideal.....
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:19, archived)
She went mad and hanged her two cats in the space under the stairs. Not nice.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:37, archived)
they were controlling her thoughts. Never saw her tucking into a tin of KiteKat though.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:41, archived)
and not the supermarket stuff... the expensive stuff!!
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:52, archived)
why did they make her hang them?
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 18:58, archived)
...while they were off their mash on catnip pipes.
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 13:25, archived)
You must have been smoking drugs/taking drugs when you added that message board.
(, Sat 22 Nov 2003, 22:23, archived)
(i.e. in the same room as me)... had his girlfriend stay over for a weekend. While common decency would normally dictate they would not engage in sexual activity, it appears common decency was not in his repertoire. He gurgled, and she shrieked, if that's not too much information.
Fucking shit that was a bad weekend.
I ended up sitting in the park, freezing my nuts off for a couple of hours at 3am just to get away from them.
Still - when he went away, I left a condom filled with condensed milk in his bed.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:37, archived)
He lived on apples and drank random pops he saw lying about, especially in the theatres. He also enjoyed open chip bags and leftovers from everyone at lunch. Erm... more to come possibly.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:37, archived)
she was a showgirl...
hmm, i wish. i live with big gay dan and a chinese guy
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:10, archived)
and an imported laserdisc player from the US. He only had one disc though. So, post-pub every night for six months, he would invite friends/colleagues/strangers up to see his hifi, demonstrating its five-speakerness by playing the first scene to Mars Attacks at top volume. Every night for six months.
In the end I was forced to killed him. I buried him under the patio.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:39, archived)
so he used to buy that frozen mince (you know the cheap kilo packs) and fry that up all at once in a pan. It used to stink the whole place out. Then he'd sit and eat it all with ketchup and dry bread. Nasty.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:39, archived)
I once shared a house with someone, let's call him 'Adey' who only cooked pasta and served it with ketchup, used to blow his nose on the drying-up cloth (which I only found out 3 weeks after he moved in) and never washed the dishes (hence the nose blowing on the drying-up cloth). He also had a lovely habit of 'hocking up a good lung oyster' and spitting into the nearest mug ot glass whilst he was watching television. During a particularly bad cold he filled a pint glass. Nice. He also asked me after 3 months of living there, where the immersion heater switch was because he wanted a bath.....
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:40, archived)
if you think thats bad I lived with someone - lets call him 'Lee King' - who actually wiped his arse with the Tea Towell. watermelon knows why.. was just a lazy cranberry. I actually moved into his house so presumably he had always done it. Up til a certain point I always thought that everything in that kitchen tasted vaguely of Marmite.
Bastard
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 8:40, archived)
i'm afraid it is the truth - i caught him doing it. He was just a lazy cranberry.
Is swearing turned off? why can't i say watermelon?
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 19:07, archived)
watermelon, zeppelin, cranberry, happy baby orangutan, don't. Bollocks would appear to be acceptable as well. Oh happy day.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 20:11, archived)
There's a swearbot here? SWEET! can i change it to stuff like on ZUG GAB?
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 21:27, archived)
happy baby orangutan, bastard, twatty, fucking, arse-biscuits.
Guess it's not that bullet-proof then 8)
Bet it can't filter out Knob-Splint.
Thought not 8D
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 9:40, archived)
when was swearing turned off?
it was more funny here when it was allowed
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 12:21, archived)
this is sillier and more twattastic (get that) imaine having tour-shitting-ettes... watermelon shit arse wank telephone buggery
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 17:59, archived)
w a n k e r = happy baby orangutan
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 13:43, archived)
f u c k = watermelon
c u n t = cranberry
t w a t = zeppelin
it may be cleverer than i suspect though, in which case this will look like a very silly post
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 13:33, archived)
to the neighbour from the adjoining terrace one day he says "is that bloke in you're house a bit weird? I heard gun shots in your house at the weekend and hopped over the fence and took a look in the window, he was dancing round a fire in the middle of the living room floor, in an army uniform, drinking whisky from a bottle and firing a gun in the air"
Well at least it expained the burns on the carpet and why my shirts and hi-fi were burnt, after he been home alone for the w/e.
Edit: oh and then there was the time I got home early on Sunday morning with a stinking hangover after a party, to find the front door wide open, went in all the furniture in the living room was smashed, the house stunk of fish and there was crab shell everywhere, initially he claimed there'd poltergeists throwing the furniture around the house, but it turned out he'd been attempting to open a crab by hitting it with furniture whilst drunk.
... and he used to spend hours on the phone to the local radio station phone-in number, when there wasn't a phone-in happening, as the crosstalk in the phone system allowed him to talk to other people who were doing the same thing.
. . there may be more to come.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:41, archived)
is a joke to be made about 100% kitten here, but i'm too polite to make it
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:08, archived)
that house was somewhere here. When I moved in to my house there was a large circular hole burnt into the living room floor (had a concrete floor) and soot on the ceiling. As if there'd been a campfire or something.
I always did wonder about that.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:12, archived)
he was so annoying - he would steal your food, dial up to the internet while you were on the phone, use your printer when you werent there and rack up huge phone bills buy using the internet and hanging up before it became itemised. so we had to spilt the bill three ways.
he had a job earning £200 a week, i was on £60, i wonder why the phone bill pissed me off!
cranberry!!
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:41, archived)
the worst flatmate?
-he made a mess,
-he didn't pay rent
-when we kicked him out, he stole our vcr and CDplayer. probably sold'em to get heroin.
not much of a story, but a terrible flatmate none the less.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:42, archived)
Bloody awful. I feel for you, because I remeber a flatmate I had.
Bloody bastard did nothing but sleep all day, drink Tequila, and piss on his bed. The smell was fucking awful. He used to eat crisps. That's all. Just crisps. And twiglets. Finally, he couldn't pay his fucking rent and got kicked out, taking along my bleedin' Volks.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 20:07, archived)
that rarely used the toilet and when he moved out we found numerous containers of shit piss and puke!
The smell from him and his room was intolerable and it wasnt helped when he caught campylobacter (food poisoning) and had the squits for 2 weeks before he went to the docs.
He also took copious amounts of amphetaimne and LSD which made for so many moments of
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:42, archived)
my flatmate, who's nickname was 'dog' managed to shit himself on the 5 minute walk from the student union to our flat. he then thought 'what the hell' and had a piss in his trousers.
what's worse is he refused to throw the trousers away. he tried to dry them out on his radiator and stank out the flat with the smell of baked urine and shit until everyone was retching at the smell and forced the filthy bastard to get rid of them.
he has also admitted to fingering a lady dog (hence his nickname) shitting himself on his mums white sofa, had a fat woman fetish, never, ever washed, could make a strong man retch at the sight of him eating and a million different other habits of hidiousness.
he was very gullable as well, my other flatmate made 'hilarious' prank calls that convinced him his life was in danger. i however just convinced him that guiness is made my irish peasants treading peat in big vats
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 18:02, archived)
Ahhh, good old Dog. Hs nickname was actually Cod, cos it was his surname only shortened, but we all called him Dog as it suited him more!
Lived in the house with me and "Stark" and a few others for a year. During that time, not once was his window opened. It didnt help matters that he spanked the monkey (burped the bishop, played the flesh flute, whatever you like to call it) at least three times a day. the stink was horrid.
Being from sheffield, i think he had a thing about not wasting water. though he did it to such a point as he didnt have showers or baths. in fact me and Stark had to go and purchase some water pistols and when he emerged from his room, we would squirt him from behind an upturned sofa, hoping he would get the message.
He used to buy whole avocado pears, and eat them raw, scooping the innards out with a spoon, then scraping his teeth over the skins.it looked foul, and to this day, i just cant eat guacamole, as it reminds me of him.
we had ways of getting him back though. we got loads of free stuff (catalogues, cds, bibles, private detective pamphlets etc) sent to him. not a day would go by when he didnt receive something. We also managed to get a free sample of ferret food for him... hehehehe... he used to love eating wheetos, and we got the packet of foul smelling + shaped ferret food and put them in his wheetos... he took the packet out, emptied them into a bowl and ate them in from of us. he said something tasted strange, and me and Stark were trying not to kill ourselves with laughter. he then went on to say he thought of writing to the manufacturers and complaining that his weetos tasted funny and were a different shape!
We were watching a porn documentary on channel 4 (yeah, i know, nothing else was on, honest!) when a porn shop in London was shown. he then said "ive been there!" and proceeded to show us his purchase, a magazine of women, who if they had a large scoop/spoon in their hand would have doubled up quite well as a JCB! they were huge! and some of the pages were stuck together! euuuuch!
the flatmate that made the prank calls was me! i couldnt resist. i used to go home at weekends, to work, and one night i thought i would have a bit of fun. i started by phoning up to ask to speak to Johnny, then getting all irate when Johnny (who didnt exist) wouldnt come to the phone. then about 3 mins after i had put the phone down, i rang back and said i was Johnny, and was there any phone calls for me.. "Johnny" got mad at Dog, and said that he had a mate in BT who could tell me what his name was and where he lived.. he fell for it! I rang him back the next day to tell him who he was, where he was, and to watch out! i eventually told him that it was me and he was a bit upset, understandably.. but then he did drive me, "Stark" and quite a few other people mad over the course of the year!
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 1:25, archived)
haha, i mentioned the free crap and the ferret food on the worst prank thread. forgot all about the water pistols though.
also didn't mention piling all the furniture in the flat up against his door, trapping him in. and on a different occasion, accidentally smashing his door in. er two separate occasions.
hmm, aardvark and myself are probably in this thread somewhere as the subjects.
in our defence he did used to eat smoked mackrel in the same way as the avocardos. it would send me running, throwing up from the room at the sight.
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 18:05, archived)
i turn on the radio at the exact words of '...ing ferret food' i feel all warm and fluffy.
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 16:40, archived)
Searched through the rest of the message board.. no other mention of ferret food..
Can anyone else confirm whether the Dog story was on air?
(, Sat 22 Nov 2003, 0:45, archived)
they talked about the jcb comparisons of dogs ladeeez of choice.
what the _fuck was that phone call i got on saturday by the way?
(, Sun 23 Nov 2003, 12:44, archived)
one night at about 3am to find their housemate redecorating the walls with toilet paper.
She was taken away and placed in a room with lovely mattress-themed wallpaper apparently.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:43, archived)
she used to think nothing of having blazing rows with her then boyfriend (who was on trial for attempting to murder his then wife and children) in front of everyone for hours and hours, but thought it was completely inappropriate for me and my girlfriend to kiss or cuddle in public. One day she stormed out of the kitchen and we didn't see her for a week, all because my girlfriend had bumped her head on a cupboard and I kissed it better...
I once had a flatmate who tried to stab me with a pen knife, but was too drunk to find my room. I'd much rather live with him again than her.
Again (like last week) not a very interesting story, but honestly the worst flatmate I ever had.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:45, archived)
(sorry - should say my fat, ugly, psychotic irish stalker). I made the mistake of moving in with a load of friends and the guy mentioned above who was a friend of a friend. He actually bugged my room and told everyone bits of conversations he had overheard, he tried very hard to split me and my boyfriend up, took pants of mine off the washing line and when i found out filled my room (which was locked at the time!) with loads of red roses to apologise...!! When said apology was refused, he trashed my car and put posters up of me in the local pub with my mobile phone number. Anyway want to know his name so you can make ure you dont work with him or make the horrible mistake of ever living with him???
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:53, archived)
but I think it's best to keep full names out of these stories to prevent any nutters getting annoyed...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:55, archived)
pissed in to 5 litre plastic milk bottles rather than walk upstairs for a piss. he had a cupboard full of them.
another housemate in the smae house used to bring prostitutes back. what a cranberry
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:54, archived)
you answered your own question there, with your name underneath
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:16, archived)
flat i lived in a few years ago - i'd just started a new job & was looking for a flat, one of my new colleagues needed someone to fill a room in his flat so i took it, he seemed like an ok guy.
so, moved in with him, his girlfriend, and their mate from years back. they all turned out to be freaks. the couple were one of these couples who were just together out of habit, they didn't seem to like each other much. she used to phone him up when he was on a day off work, and he'd respond with something like 'what you phoning me now for, i'm watching a video! fuck sake.' charming really.
and the 2 guys were borderline alcoholics (made more fun by me being teetotal). so they used to come in about 1.30 nearly every morning utterly drunk, and either: sing, play football/rugby, wrestle, or worst of all amusingly pretend to have sex with a large cardboard cutout of gillian anderson they kept in the hallway. every bloody night.
eventually the guy i worked with quit his job, he just wasn't able to keep it together. also his ashen face & the way he would tremble uncontrollably were putting off the customers. he was unemployed for the 3 months or so until i moved out of the flat - this was during winter, and he used to spend his days at home, with the central heating full blast, and gas fires on in 2 rooms, walking around in his pants. after i moved out they tried to hit me with a gas bill for over £500. ha.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:58, archived)
but the flat i lived in after that, my flatmate - who really was a lovely girl - had terrible taste in men. for nearly 2 years she went out with this guy who was just the saddest individual i have ever met. he was 27, hadn't held a job down *ever*, had no desire to get one, had no social skills, could always be relied on to say the wrong thing, was so clumsy he could be guaranteed to trip over or break something every time he was in the flat. he lived in a manky house with about 7 other people, so naturally he'd take the opportunity to stay at ours whenever possible.
he only washed from week to week, so he stank the place out a bit, he never cleaned up after himself, never did any dishes, bought a guardian every day (in the vain hope it might make him intelligent) and constructed a mountain out of them in the living room. he was there for a over a year, and never paid a penny in bills or rent.
oh yeah, his mum used to phone up looking for him too, usually when he was never there, and then he'd never phone her back when i passed messages on. so every time she called & i answered, she'd accuse me of lying to her about asking him to call. which was nice.
and for some reason whenever i bump into him in the street, he still seems to think i'll want to chat to him.
after my flatmate had finally dumped him, she ended up going out with a proper crusty - i swear this is true, he used to go up to 6 MONTHS without washing. you could tell he'd been in the flat hours after he'd left by the smell, and whenever he was round i'd end up having to eat me dinner in the bedroom coz having to inhale his stench whilst eating was enough to make me bowk.
i live alone now...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:09, archived)
but he is only 19 but all of the above - bless him
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 10:40, archived)
One of them liked closing doors.
If you got up in the middle of the night to use the loo or get a drink, if you left any doors open he would pop out of his room and close them, no matter what time it was.
Another had about 6 mobile phones, all on different networks, so he could chat to his mates on their different phones, on the same network. he used to talk very loudly on the phone outside my room (god knows why he couldn't do it in his own room, seeing as it was a mobile phone) to each of his girlfriends telling her she was special, and how much he loved her, then onto a mate telling them what a stupid cow girlfriend A was, and girlfrined B almost found out about girlfriend C, and what was he going to do. he also seemed incapable of going to the loo in the loo - he just saw the bathroom as one giant loo, and liked to give all parts of the floor a fair share.
Another one was german, and had no pots or pans of his own and ate out of a metal dog bowl. Wer had no problem sharing the saucepans, but it got a bit much when he almost started crying because he couldn't cook his dinner because there were no pans clean. Possibley becasue we we actually using them to cook our own dinner - but that didn't appear to matter.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 14:59, archived)
i have a thing about open doors..... even if i can't see the door or didn't notice it opening i can feel that it is open... and it's a horrible feeling... i have to close all the doors to the room i'm in...
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 14:53, archived)
I'm one of them, I can't help it. Anyone ever notice no-one thinks it's odd if you're a cupboard door closer?
(, Sat 22 Nov 2003, 17:50, archived)
Nah, door closers are all fawking strange. My ex-GF, who had pretty much decided she lived with me, was a compulsive door closer. I could be cooking dinner for her and she'd come up and shut the cupboard door or a drawer or whatever if I left it open even if I was going to put something back right away.
(, Sun 23 Nov 2003, 23:34, archived)
a very mild form of obsessive compulsive disorder to me. It's very common.
(, Mon 24 Nov 2003, 13:43, archived)
I lived with 3 other people in a fab flat. Because I'd found the flat (and also was the only domesticated one among us and came complete with kitchen utensils), I had the biggest, nicest room.
I dropped out of my course, and found myself with a room to shift or I'd have to pay for the entire term, but my previously pleasant flatmates decided that due to me 'stealing' the frying pan (that I'd brought with me - never mind all the other kitchen stuff which was mine) when I left, they'd break into my room and one of them moved into it, swapping it for a small, poky, damp room she'd painted lime green in a moment of madness.
As if this wasn't going to make it hard enough to fill the room, they made extra sure by throwing beer cans and fag ends at whoever came round to the house to look at the room until they went away.
They cost me a grand, and all for a frying pan, bastards!
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:01, archived)
who stopped being charming as soon as he moved in.
We decided he must have been suffering from an obsessive-compulsive disorder.
He would only leave the house by the backdoor and only enter via the frontdoor, regardless of which was nearer or more convenient.
He objected to people using rooms for other than their "designated use". Quite what that meant I still don't know, but he objected to people eating in the living room and to people NOT eating in the dining room.
He wouldn't enter the kitchen if someone else was in there, even if, as happened one time, his dinner was gently burning on the stove. He then freaked out because I'd touched the pan with his dinner in it.
He would play loud music late at night to "punish us" for talking in the hall.
The final straw came when I came down to the kitchen to find most of the contents of the bin all over the floor with a note on the table accusing people of putting rubbish in HIS bin, which he wasn't responsible for. He'd placed a shopping bag on the back of the door and designated it his own personal bin without actually telling anyone.
We used to put all sorts of horrible cack in the bag just so he'd have to scoop it out again... but finally realised we'd descended ot his level and asked him to leave.
It's wierd looking back on it that we didn't chuck him out earlier - but the descent into madness was pretty gradual. By the time we noticed, we were actually quite scared of him as he was so completely unfathomable.
When he left, he threw away all his bed clothes, his duvet, trainers, all the cases from his CDs, his crockery and his cooking stuff - filling the wheelie bin with stuff.
We ended up taking it all to a charity shop.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:03, archived)
We lived in a four bedroomed flat, but there were only 3 of us, so we had to have odd people in the 4th room. One guy refused to empty the bin, coz most of the rubbish in it wasn't his. We tried topoint out that we weren't one single entity, and that most of the rubbish wasn't mine, and most of it wasn't actually any single persons - but he refused to believe us.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:08, archived)
I think this is where his bin thing stemmed from - we were pretty lazy at emptying the damn thing anyway, but the shouting and arguing came about because we put rubbish in his bin.
As with all the problems, they were things he'd decided upon but not told anyone else about.
I once asked how his PhD was going and he stopped, sighed, turned around and stared at me. Then he very slowly said, "That. Is. None. Of. Your. Business."
Nice chap.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:23, archived)
I currently live in a small apartment complex. There is a huge communal dumpster and several communal recycling bins in the parking lot. My apartment is all of fifty feet away from aforementioned receptacles (sp?), and yet my roommates insist on leaving bags of trash and/or recycling on our front porch for two to three days at a time. Honestly, if the dumpster were any closer it would be in our front yard. It's not exactly invigorating excercise to walk all the way to the dumpster with a full bin liner in your hand.
At night, the feral cats come. They chew the bin liners open or rummage through the bags of recycleables, looking for tasty tidbits to snack on. When they find the half-eaten tins of cat food that Lord Spoiled Prince Kitty (not mine, obviously) turns his nose up at, they dig in, the motion of their eating pushing the tins across the concrete porch makes these wierd scraping/chewing noises. It's not all that bad, especially when I convince myself I don't have to clean it up, but when you wake at 2am to hear a metal scraping sound on right outside your window it can be quite scary.
Now the little bastards have taken to appearing on our porch during the daytime. They look at me inquisitively, as if to say "Well? Where's the food, bitch?" Have they no shame?! And even after the rubbish has been desecrated by the local cats, my roommates will still leave it out another day or two. I guess rubbish, like wine, has to fully mature.
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 21:15, archived)
the use of the word "rubbish." It's such a nice word for such a nasty item.
(, Sun 23 Nov 2003, 7:41, archived)
...I had was a huge bloke called John. When we interviewed him (landlord chaired it and everything - very odd) he seemed like a nice bloke, bit of a rugger bugger but no-ones perfect. He mentioned that he sometimes worked from home and had the odd friend over, no problem as others in the house did the same.
About a week after he moved in we discovered he was stone deaf, worked as a salesman for a job and shouted for England. He had a landline installed in his bedroom and carried two mobiles about. He'd get up about 6.00am every morning, we knew this as from three floors down I could tell which TV channel he was watching - the horrible, horrible bastard! Every bloody weekday. He'd then proceed to shout into his various phones until the small hours.
To make matters worse I'd come home sometimes for lunch to find him and a few 'business colleagues' cooking up my fucking dinner after their meetings. This progressed to him getting keys cut for his business partners who'd randomly turn up to check for faxes and not at all to watch cable all day at our expense while they dreamed up get rich quick schemes.
He'd frequently hold dinner parties which he forgot to tell us about, the whole lounge would be packed with the most appaling hooray henrys bleating on about farms and the like
Everyone in the house naturally hated him and although we told him to bugger off he didn't budge. I moved out soon after I understand that once the landlord actually picked up his answer phone messages from us he fucked him off out of it in no uncertain terms.
Ok rant over.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:36, archived)
he would never set foot in there if people were in there, much like the kitchen.
Seeing as we were always in there (the biggest, nicest room in the house - upstairs with a huge bay window looking south over Cambridge) he probably never went in there at all.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:47, archived)
sharing a big double room.
They didn't come out much except to eat, and that was usually when nobody else was around. However they'd regularly leave the kitchen in a mess and never did the washing up.
So, as a household, they asked them to please do the washing up occasionally, m'kay?
Amazingly, this worked and for the next few days, the washing up was always done come morning.
Then they couldn't find any mugs to make tea, nor any plates... it turned out the couple had merely bagged up the dirty plates in bin bags and dumped them at the end of the garden.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:08, archived)
sorry. ahem. I mean - damn fools ! what the fook is that all about ?!
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:13, archived)
i lived in the same house as a chinese couple. the bloke seemed nice enough, but didn't speak much english and i didn't see him much. i saw his wife even less, and when i did occasionally see her in the hall she would scream and run in to their room. this happened every time i saw her in the six months i lived there. it made me a little paranoid after a while.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:19, archived)
whilst i was in halls we had this one lad who was generally a nice enough bloke and didn't mean any harm but was an absolute cock.
there was a period where we would play goldeneye loads, and he was crap at it. so, during the exam period, he borrowed the n64 and would practice on it all the time. you could hear him down the corridor, the music playing and the occasional gunshot, then every now and again, you'd hear him swear his head off when he got killed for the umpteenth time. he was also heard to blame the asian community for his inept gameplaying skills...
needless to say, we ended up living him for 3 fucking years, which was nice.
some of the gems from that period include such culinary delights as his fish finger curry, some pasta/mushroom soup slop, and crisps arranged on a plate when he fucked up his proper meal. (he once blamed the fact that they were irish sausages every time he burnt them; even though he'd leave them for on the hob for an hour and watch tv)
his n64 playing never ceased, insisting on playing whilst we were all sat in there, wanting to watch tv. or he'd play into the early hours, keeping me up with his swearing.
coupled with the usual not cleaning or washing up, or paying for any shared stuff like bread and milk cos he said he couldn't afford (we found out he put all his loan into an isa the tight bastard) he'd come out with all sorts of right wing views his dad had brainwashed him with (his dad happened to work at ford during the scandal of airbrushing the non white staff out of some photo)
the last time i heard of him was that he was a picker/packer at argos.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:28, archived)
we had an african girl in halls who would cook big pots of black gloop every mealtime, which stank to high heaven.
one of our good friends was a nightmare as a flatmate, he came in pissed one night, decided to start boiling a pan of water for a boiled egg, then wandered off to bed. I came down in the morning to a house full of smoke, the gas hob had been burning on full power ALL night, a black scorched pan, a stench of teflon and a black wall. He also woke us up by banging on the door at 5.30am one morning, covered in his own blood and no idea how it happened. Finally, he was having a laugh one day and threw a bottle of tomato ketchup across the kitchen for "no apparent reason". Everything was covered in glass and gloop :(
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:09, archived)
about Monk3ySpunkMop3d - a fellow b3tan and my housemate. I would like to point out that he is not a "Flatmate from Hell" he is very muchly funny and we have a rosy household - but this one time....
It was the usual drinking on a Friday night with late night disco till 2am. Me and my girl went home early and fast asleep we where when Monk3ySpunkMop3d came home.
We arose in the morning to find....mud.
Mud ALL OVER the bathroom. Mud on the landing. Mud all down the stairs and a big streak of it along the wall where he had obviously dragged himself upstairs. Mud all in the hallway and we open the door to find - suprisingly - it was covered in mud. Top to bottom.
Eventual Monk3ySpunkMop3d wakes up looking very confused. We question him to the mud and of course he as no memory of it whatsoever. On closer inspection we see....MUD ! In his hair, in his ears, up his nose, in his pockets, shoes, wallet - everywhere !!!
To this day, we still don't know what happened.....goddam we wish we knew. I think he is lucky to be alive, he had obviously been submerged somewhere very nasty indeed :)
Hoorah Monk3ySpunkMop3d. A job well done.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:11, archived)
Student digs on Divinity Road in Oxford. Huge house (7 students), with a sitting tenant called Bert.
Bert washed everything with bleach: Pots, pans. He very very rarely used the bathroom. We were worried he used bleach for himself too.
He had a video tape which he had pretty much ready at all times to tape any TV programmes featuring nudity or sex scenes. He was 50+, had done up the room rather impressively, and was just a little weird.
It was a good house mind. It's just Bert freaked us all out, especially the poor girl who's room was next to Berts.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:14, archived)
my friend and I had a girl move in as we needed 3 for a student house. She turned out to be a mega wierdo.
She would bleach everything in the kitchen and leave it stinking of bleach. She would sit and smoke in the living room even though we said it was only in bedrooms. She would go out of the house for the day and leave the door WIDE OPEN, not just unlocked. Thank god we were in. She hardly ever spoke to us and had a wierd bloke with dodgy knock off gear.
Once I came home one day and I could smell gas, so I said I was going to phone British Gas's emergency line. She shrugged and disappeared to her room, switching on several lights, then came back down to the living room and SPARKED UP A CIGARETTE!
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:18, archived)
I've lived in various shared accomodations in my time, but only a few cases spring to mind. I must have been lucky.
CASE 1
When I moved in, there was a girl living in a room at the front on the first floor. She was large and scary, and never quite seemed to get the fact that living in a shared place was a little bit of give and take.
About 2 weeks after moving in, a couple of my friends came to visit to see the place, and we quickly legged it up the pub for a couple of Sunday-night beers. We got back at about 10pm, and near the doorstep something funny was said, and they both started laughing. Loudly.
The following morning I was confronted with large and scary girl who was screaming at me because our laughter had woken her and her boyfriend up, and he'd woken with such a start that he'd damaged the muscles in his neck. By all accounts he'd been taken off to hospital, he wasn't going to be able to play county cricket any more, and she was going to do as much to make sure I was kicked out of the house and was to be sued for financial loss.
I spend the next week bricking it (though working for lawyers myself I had sound legal advice to hand). Strangely enough, when I did see her boyfriend he didn't look anywhere near as bothered by it, and I just said "sorry about that", and he said "S'ok".
To this day, I'm still more worried about the fact that they were in their early/mid-20s and in bed to actually sleep at that time of night, rather than have wild rampant monkey-sex.
But then again, she was scary.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:18, archived)
In the same house toward the end of my tenancy, another guy moved in. Was friendly enough, but I always felt a little on edge with him as he was like a powder keg waiting to explode.
He was clean to the point of obsession, and hated the fact that the place did not remain spotless 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. By this point I was 'in charge' of the house and the bills much to my deep regret, so if anything was going wrong I was the first port of call.
As time went on, he became more and more eratic, and on several occasions came up to my room and physically threatened me over a noise that was coming from my place but could never be traced. Eventually, I found out was was a freezer two floors below me causing the noise, which just about appeased him.
It was around this time he moved into a room near the back of the house, and was put on long-term sick leave due to "depression". He started telling me that the place was being "watched from the skies", and had managed to somehow destroy about £3000 of reinforced laptop because people were keeping track of what he was doing through it even though it wasn't on.
He also destroyed a few CDs I'd lent him on the ground I was using them to keep tabs on him as well, and that they were communicating back to the satellite beacons positioned above the house. It was hard to know what to expect one day to the next, but it was obvious he was becoming more aggressive with it each day, and his girlfriend was also greatly concerned.
Needless to say, I didn't really want to live with an utter schitzo any more, so I made alternative arrangements, and moved to a new place with my girlfriend and a mate of ours.
I later found out that our landlord had booted him out of the place about a month after that.
I'd imagine that was probably just before he redecorated everything he owned with tin foil.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:25, archived)
Nick lived in the room next to me (same place again).
He was old, rather dodgy, but a friendly person in small doses. He'd get drunk a hell of a lot and come and sit in my room with me and another flatmate called Neal (who was conversely a top geezer).
He'd constantly force cannabis, cigars, and stuff like that onto us whilst drunk in return for us having to endure him telling us the same story 15 times in slightly different ways. He claimed that he didn't agree with drugs, but "if we ever wanted anything he could get it for us".
He would eat Edam, Baked Bean, Gherkin and tuna sandwiches.
But his piece de resistance was getting very drunk, falling asleep and leaving his stereo on very loud, and on repeat.
There is no words that can describe how emotionally crippling 9 solid hours of being forced to listen to "Sacrifice" by Elton John can be.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:30, archived)
We lived in the basement of a town house in Bristol. The rest of the house was one big shared house - full of students. Male students. 10 of them. Their sitting room was right above our bedroom, and there is no way in the world 10 lads and their mates and girlfriends can watch TV togetehr quietly. Most of the time we just put up with it - it wasn't excessive noise - just lads being lads. Until one night they left the TV on full volume - with a play station attached - on the intro screen. I have no idea what game it was, but the music just went round and round and round.
We tried banging on the door and shouting at them - but they never heard us :(
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:41, archived)
Mebbe - are you my stalker?
(it was a very good curry house though!)
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 10:51, archived)
wooo, maybe, I dunno. Wouldnt be a very good one, what with the size of my nose and all.
Just as long as you're taking care of the N64, thats all ;)
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 17:46, archived)
We had a strange suspicion it may be you.
Where are you/what are you up to? haven't heard from you in a while.
The N64 is happy as larry.
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 14:13, archived)
Have moved from behind said curry house, and are now next door to a cooked-breakfast emporium :o) (aka. the York Caff - or however you spell cafe without the 'e')
Where are you working now then ? s'been ages since we went t'pub at lunch-time
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 14:18, archived)
You find an ex-flatmate on a thread about flatmates!
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 16:16, archived)
stank to high heaven, at the time I was too out my tree to care though
Ahhh...
The old days!
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 16:18, archived)
When I was in halls at Nottingham University, a friend of mine went away for the weekend, leaving the Shostakovich waltz from Eyes Wide Shut on repeat at full volume. He came back three days later to find us all glazed over and sleep deprived, having failed to break into his room to stop it.
For the next few weeks, he'd hum the opening bars, then laugh while 6 or 7 of us hummed the rest of it. Later he told me it was an experiment to see how simple it would be to condition peolple like Pavlov's dogs. Apparently, it was all too easy. Little cranberry.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:29, archived)
You've lived with a few nutters, haven't you?
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 14:52, archived)
Not only were we subjected to hideous shite music but....
he was a scabby zeppelin who used to leave a thick layer of skin/hair/smeg in the bath after he finished - EVERY FUCKING MORNING! - i mean how much smeg can one man produce during a day? obviously quite a lot in this blokes case...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:38, archived)
But rather than keep it in his immaculate room, he kept it in the hall, where it would throw sand and shit from the confines of it's cage.
He went away for a two week holiday without telling any of us and we had to feed it for him (and pay for it's food).
It then vanished shortly after he stopped seeing this girl. When we asked him why he said he'd taken it to the vet for a check up and he'd had to have it put down as it had a 'collapsed lung'
What a cranberry.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:43, archived)
...a MASSIVE cockney bloke called Andy, who claimed to be 30 but looked a good 10 years older.
6 months down the line we found out the reason for his general grizzledness.
Every night he would trundle down to oddbins and purchase 4 litres of White Lightening which he would then proceed to drink alone in his room, which could only be distinguised from a landfill site by the fact that even the rats and seagulls drew the line at eating anything from his room.
He would develop random crushes on various female members of the household and then threaten violence when his advances were inevitably rebuffed, stole stuff from the kitchen, and I'm not just talking the usual milk and cheese, oh nooooo, if someone lft their jacket, underwear, regardless of the size or sex of the person wearing it(on the radiator to dry, obviously - the kitchen was too foul most of the time to think about indulging in filthy ape sex in there), college bag or cat in there overnight then it would never be seen again, having been taken into his room, never to be seen again.
We never found out what happened to these items once they got into his room. We even broke in once to look for our stuff to no avail.
And then there was the incident where in a fit of rage over his latest crush going wrong he smashed up his desk light and room light fixture and then had to complete his assignment by the light of his telly.
Which he insisted on having at top volume for the 10 hour night shift he put in to complete said assignment.
And the fact the fact that the corrifdor in which he resided permenently stank of stale cider and unwashed feet.....
Oh and, he used to phone you up at 4 in the morning on the internal phones the halls had to ask you for advice in affairs of the heart or to moan about his latest crush going sour....
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:54, archived)
... has a drumkit. And is currently playing it. It pisses me off no end. Boom, tish, boomboom tish. For fucking ages. He's a sound bloke, but it's probably the most annoying thing in the history of the world.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 15:56, archived)
a shallow grave? I can't be arsed to dig very deep.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:04, archived)
in a wooded glade.
miles for anywhere.
that's where i left them, no one will find them for ages...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:09, archived)
he'll have to become a drummer for some crap soft-metal band.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:32, archived)
didn't stop that cranberry from def leppard
edit: that'll teach me not to read ahead
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:35, archived)
def leppard? their drummer only had one arm
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 19:20, archived)
When his car crashed, he wasn't and was thrown clear, loosing his arm. His girlfriend was wearing hers, killed instantly.
If only he'd been wearing one, we wouldn't've have to put up with that dogshite from Leppard...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 23:41, archived)
damn, went to the trouble of registering to use the message board to say the geezer out of def leppard has only one arm, only to scroll down and find lots of people have had the misfortune to listen to the 'lepperd' .. dogs of war anyone... ??
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 15:21, archived)
Could this be me by any chance?? Although i can't think which other housemates of mine would use this board!
Anyway, sorry if it is me!
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 22:26, archived)
don't need to put 're' as your title. The position of your post shows that it's a reply. Most people use it as the beginning of a sentence.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 22:14, archived)
My mate had a weird room-mate at Uni.
The very first night they all got steaming drunk. Ed woke in the middle of the night to findy matey laying a rather large log on a chair in the middle of the room.
Funnily enough it never got any worse than that, but not a great way to start Uni.
I'm lucky that I always had a single room at halls. Not lucky was the bird underneath when I chucked up out of the window after a particularly large sesh. She had her window open and it all went down the inside. I got a bit told off for that!
All the other flatmates I lived with were fine, including Ben the mad Vegan and Jon who paid the rent but slept at his girlfriends all the time instead.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:04, archived)
my flatmate at my current halls of residence, came back on the second night of being here totally shitfaced (apparently, I wasn't there after leaving him after drinking two pints of guiness simultaneously and feeling ill), not being able to find his keys for his room, and badly needed the toilet. SO, he pissed into his shirt in the hallway, which was placed in the sink, and then curled one off into the oven. The girls in my flat spent most of the night dissinfecting everything, and when they told me about the event in the morning, I pissed myself (in a less literal sense). This guy hasn't stopped looking sheepish since, not that we see him much anymore.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 20:01, archived)
One guy I shared with in Tottenham used to wank in the sink - kitchen or bathroom, depending on availability. He was quite open about this. Another used to shit in the shower when drunk, purely because the toilet - a good foot away - was "Too far". Both sound blokes, though.
I moved to a house in Enfield. Where I found myself sharing with a fucking brute of a Greek who used to make werid manky food and leave it to rot all over the kitchen. She also made a habit of bringing back a different OAP (or what looked like OAPs) every weekend and fucking them silly, all the while making ridiculously overstated orgasmic noises. Bizarrely, we never saw any of them leave her room afterwards. Oh, and she used to talk to her other Greek friends in a really high-pitched nasal whining noise that didn't resemble anything like normal speech. The bitch.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:06, archived)
you mean...I was there for four years a while back. You do get some freaky freakishness up that neck of the woods. In my first year I had to spend my first 6 weeks living with some old hag oop in the town. After finding her vaginal douche on the side of the bath one evening, I quickly made my excuses and moved into halls.
I got put into a flat with 6 female, irish nursing students. Christmas had come early...or so I though.
Something happens to Irish girls at uni...well the ones I met anyway. The could drink more than my Uncle Harry. They smoked more than than a suicide bomber. They swore more than a Grimsby fishwife.
Actually I fitted in really well....ignore me, it must be the crack.
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 9:56, archived)
I think she's actually retarded, she's so fucking stupid.
she's young and pretty so she thinks she can act like a princess, but she's really just a fucked-up moronic drunk.
she gets so drunk she falls off chairs and gets abrasions all over her face.
she gets drunk and crashes her car into construction sites.
she gets drunk and burns down her only friend's house by falling asleep while playing with candles.
she gets drunk and lets the drunk guys she takes home with her stumble into my room, wake me up, and ask me for weed. which I don't have. ever. and never did.
she often gets so drunk she walks through the house like a one-year-old taking her first steps in life.
she leaves her dishes on the table.
she leaves her make up bags on all the kitchen chairs (I still don't get that one)
she leaves her used qtips on the floor.
she leaves her shower stuff in my shelf. (always. god knows why)
she leaves huge puddles of water all over the house when she showers (I think she holds the showerhead the wrong way and is too stupid to notice, and just wonders how she manages to stay so dry when she showers)
she doesn't take the lid off the trash when she throws things away. she just throws stuff onto the lid of the trash (jesus! the stupidity!)
instead of taking out her own trash from her room, she just puts it in front of the front door, so someone else has to take it out if they want to use the door.
if she ever puts a dish in the dishwasher, she puts it in diagonally, so you have to take it out and put it back in again later.
she buys cheap crappy food and then eats my quality food, leaving hers to rot so I can throw it away for her weeks later. no, really. I mean, she buys diet margarine, and then finishes off a tub of my margarine, leaving mine untouched.
she takes my towel off the hook and throws it on the floor, because she likes the location of my hook better than any of the free ones.
she only listens to two songs, both really loud.
one for going out (benny benassi "satisfaction) and one for coming home drunk (louis armstrong "what a wonderful world")
over and over again. loud.
if I close her door, she opens it. again and again and again. until I kick it shut with my foot. sometimes that stops her.
if I try to talk to her about any of these things, she holds her hands to her ears and yells "la la la la! I hate conflicts! no arguing! I hate arguements! lalalalala I'm not listening!" and then she totters out of the room wobbling on her high heels.
WHY do I tolerate all this, you ask?
well, she's good friends with my other female roomate, who is very tidy and quiet, but who is psychotic and protects the drunken foolish one like a mother dragon.
me and the other male roomate are too scared of her to kick them both out. so we just have to tolerate having a roomate that makes living with a retarded child seem like a cakewalk.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:10, archived)
Just put on hoods, cave in the front door and make it look like a robbery, take anything not nailed down (including your stuff) and store it somewhere.
They should both be freaked out enough to move, which you should suggest as it is getting 'dodgy' where you live.
Give it a couple of weeks then move your stuff back in again.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:07, archived)
one of those Gladiatorial sport shows from the 80's where two beefy guys wail on each other with large sticks padded at both ends?
Well, a Q-Tip is that stick, one thousand times smaller, and with cotton instead of foam padding at the ends. It's used to clean your ears.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 22:20, archived)
she must be blonde, never met a red head or brunnette that bad.
best revenge, wait till she goes out on the piss, make a really tasty looking meal, but lace it with laxative (don't eat it yourself) and leave the dippy cow to finnish it off.
if your lucky she'll be shitting and pucking, and it will put her off drinking alot for ages!!
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 15:12, archived)
kill 'er mate. In fact I'm really rather suprised that you haven't already.
I feel your pain man!
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 17:29, archived)
Wait until she's out and just piss all over everything she owns. Bed, clothes, furniture, CDs, everything. She won't last long.
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 14:50, archived)
sorry yes meei am 12 years old yes.
are you also retard and haf to ware helmet?
(, Mon 24 Nov 2003, 1:47, archived)
Just kill her, all that stuff you could tolerate if you could scream in her face an tell her about it but the lalalala crap is just too much, hell I'll kill her for you, she's pissin me off already
(, Sat 22 Nov 2003, 19:30, archived)
Sleep on my floor for a couple of weeks while he sorted out his accomodation. Needless to say this short stay turned into several months. He wasn't really nasty, or particularly mad, but he was just utterly useless. At pretty much everything.
He was a great cook though, even though he never washed up. He once ran out of money for food so I lent him a tenner for (as I thought) some pasta and a few cans of tomato. But oh no, this guy wanted to cook. So he went and bought a bunch of baby squid and fried them in garlic butter, leaving him no money to eat for the rest of the week. Worst of all there were no clean pans in the house so he fried in garlic butter direct on the hob. Which we had to clean.
He once walked in to a rather serious house meeting, sat down and proceeded to shotgun a can of lager and then get all ratty when we threw him out.
Mutual friends used to give him money and then try and find him a couple of hours later just to find out what sort of state he'd got himself into. The worst day was when we found him doing lines of coke off a table in a pub in front of the entire, horrified clientle.
The scariest thing he ever did though was to turn up in my room at about 3a.m. stinking drunk and covered in blood and oozing sores, waking me and scaring me witless in the process. I thought he'd got into a fight but it turned out he'd decided it's be fun to roll head first down a long, steep grassy bank. And I'm sure it was fun right up until the point he hit the tarmac road at the bottom of the slope head first.
The scary thing is he's a teacher now.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:12, archived)
I used to be a teacher - before getting an even worse paid job as a PhD student. I always tell my mates that everything on Teachers is mild compared to some of the stuff I've seen, heard of or done. There was this house full of young teachers, and one guy came in so pissed up that he'd shit his trousers. Being (sort of) house trained, he put the trousers in the washing machine to clean them up. Unfortunately, the rest of the house woke up to find that he'd actually put the shitty trousers into the tumble dryer. Lovely.
And this was at a highly reputable public school!
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:59, archived)
"And this was at a highly reputable public school!"
Probably explains the weak sphincter.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:00, archived)
used to lie naked on his bed when my girlfriend visited.
let his cat piss all over the kitchen.
proudly displayed his life achievements on the wall (cycling proficiency test and 25 metre swimming certificate).
routinely dismantled his motorbike in the living room.
sexually harassed any female visitors.
in his defence, he was remarkably tolerant of my mates regularly crashing over, vomiting etc. and he had a good porn collection.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:13, archived)
A guy I lived with at Uni had his toilet blocked (god knows what with) and it flodded his room while he was asleep. A lot of his clothes were on the floor or in the bottom of his wardrobe and got covered. He just hung them on radiators until they were dry and then wore them as if nothing had happened. You could smell if he was on the same floor of the building as you.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:17, archived)
one of my flatmates in halls was a crazy welsh slut named Steph. She spent lots of time fucking lots of different people and talking very loudly about complete shite to anyone she managed to corner.
At the begining of the second semester she went crazy. She started shouting in the middle of the night, and ended up running out of the house wearing only her nightie, telling people she was running away to Egypt. she didn't make it to Egypt, but a postcard came from the Channel Islands.
The university cleaned out her room so that soemone else could move in, and her mattress had to be replaced as she had worn it out with too much fucking.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:29, archived)
in my first year at uni was very quiet. I shared a small cruddy kitchen with him, but never really saw much of him.
Until the summer, that is, when the university authorities threw him out as he'd completed his degree the previous year and they'd just noticed he was still there.
His parents had to come and take him home. Poor sod had been a bit scared by the whole "outside world" thing and just stayed in his room.
I feel like that occasionally :(
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:51, archived)
the winner is!!!
brilliant
if only i had thought of that, D'oh
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 15:32, archived)
I knew a very similar girl who lived upstairs from me in Townhill last year - I can't remember her name now, but she was scary!
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 0:44, archived)
Friend of an old workmate, scary bandana-wearing steph..small world eh. Nice to see some fellow SIHErs on here.
(, Sat 22 Nov 2003, 21:36, archived)
left a few years ago
i remember a few nutters in halls at townhill
one woman was stalking some guy and locked him and one of his friends in his room and refused to let them out got all a bit serious and had to break door down after threats to hurt them
(, Sat 22 Nov 2003, 13:59, archived)
That made me spray Pepsi across the room.
Woo!
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 1:49, archived)
yeah, that one made beer come outta my nose. Congrats
(, Sat 22 Nov 2003, 19:38, archived)
but my wife did in her student days. She shared with a bunch of Christian girls. They were very much against things generally accepted as student behaviour such as going out, having fun or having a night on the bevvy. It was so bad that my wife ended up not drinking for months for fear of disapproving Christian looks.
One day, on her birthday, she was feeling rather miserable about not being out getting pissed that the flatmates made her a nice meal and a cake.
Before they tucked in though, she had to read a passage from the bible at the head of the table.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:35, archived)
But the 5 girls I share the halls with. 2 of them never was up, leaving crap in the sink (not crap as in poo poo) I never see any of them, but I sometimes .."ahem" hear them.
Im all alone except on tuesdays and thursday nights :(
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:41, archived)
Moved into a spare room in my last year at Uni. two lovely chaps, one complete nutter.
On three seperate occasions, he had to be persuaded not to set fire to the living room. The only persuasion that worked was that I was asleep upstairs.
He slept with a knife under his pillow and an air pistol under his bed.
He broke into the empty house next door "for a laugh" and proceeded to strip every single fixture and fitting from the place.
To get one of the other lads in the house back for some minor indiscretion, he pulled him out of bed by the feet, and proceeded to pull him down the stairs, face first, with a hand on the back of his head, which resulted in the loss of all the skin from my mate's face. He didnt leave the house for 3 weeks till the scabs had solidified some.
The nutter also tried to wake the same lad up by slapping him round the face. With his nob. Lovely chap!
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:38, archived)
the bloke i mentioned above had a penchant for carrying weapons. unfortunately, these included:
a lighter and a can of lynx
a small vegetable knife
a bottler opener
in his room he had a baseball bat, a golf putter, and he once thought someone was breaking in because he heard somebody at the door with manc accents, he woke me up, armed with a slipper, only to find it was our housemates from burnley and stockport...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 19:32, archived)
on the lower floor was this really unhappy couple in another bedsit.
We shared the bog on their floor, one evening i discovered it stuffed with a whoppping turd. OK, i thought, so i went and had a crap up the local pub bog.
Two days later, needing a midnight crap, i checked the bog, and it was half full.
Surely i assumed, they'd call the landlord to get a plumber in or do the decent thing themselves.
Nope.
One week later, i lifted the lid and nearly screamed.
Full bog.
Like a really big walnut whip with no walnut.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:40, archived)
So called because he stole my girlfriend's pants, not to mention my "art" magazines.
He had obsessive compulsive Disorder, which did mean that our bathroom and toilet were always clean and tidy. Oddly his obsession with hygene did not extent to his teeth and every time we bumped into him since he had fewer of them.
But his OCD/going Schizo medication was definitely not compatible with alchohol and unfortunately Pantony liked a drink. A lot. He would come home late at night completely arseholed on pills and booze we would not be able to sleep because in his stupor he was lying in bed, perhaps asleep, perhaps awake(who knows?), bashing the radiator with his foot and singing "Don't You Want Me Baby" at top volume.
In the mornings we would go downstairs and find a plate of food he had got out of the freezer ready to microwave but then forgot about, including one time fish finger and mushy pea sandwiches.
but the killer was one time at about 2 in the morning my girlfriend woke me terrified as there was someone moving about on the top floor and saying something. I crept upstairs and it was Pantony. He was having a bath. At 2 in the morning. And shouting "watermelon off nigger die die die!" over and over again.
Other than that he was a very nice chap. a bit sad and desparate, but ok. His mate once gave me his watch in exchange for a spliff so he could get off with a girl.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:44, archived)
how odd. swearing has been censored. b3ta has been taken over by the daily mail.
He didn't used to shout "watermelon off", but "f.u.c.k. off"
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:11, archived)
I like mushy pea and fish finger sandwiches. And I don't think I'm alone in this...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 21:49, archived)
watermelon
fucker
fuckface
fucknut
edit:OMG you're right!
but what if I wanted to talk about a flatmate who was caught fucking a watermelon?
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 22:48, archived)
watermelon - F.U.C.K.
shit - S.H.I.T.
arse - A.R.S.E
dave - D.A.V.E
cranberry - C.U.N.T
bollocks - B.O.L.L.O.C.K.S
nipples - N.I.P.P.L.E.S
wank - W.A.N.K
vagina - V.A.G.I.N.A
pussy - P.U.S.S.Y
zeppelin - T.W.A.T
penis - P.E.N.I.S
crap - C.R.A.P
faggot - F.A.G.G.O.T
bastard - B.A.S.T.A.R.D
anything i've missed please add
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 15:53, archived)
what about
cock-sucking-sheep-rooting-gobshite-trouser-bandit-spunk-gulping-knob-gobbler?
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 10:53, archived)
I've seen the word cranberry in a few odd contexts here today. Any idea what swearbot's up to there?
w.a.n.k.e.r = happy baby orangutan ???
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 12:00, archived)
It was cranberry!
Glad to have stumbled on the fact that happy baby orangutan gets replaced with happy baby orangutan though.
Aah, sweet serendipity.
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 12:02, archived)
Lived with an utter paranoid happy baby orangutan. Beat up his girlfirend (who also shared the house)regularly, stole and read everyone's post, stole everyones food, ran up a fokken huge phone bill ringing his scaggy mate in New Zealand. He also Broke into the house next door, and hid his ill gotten gains in my room, whilst I was away. Oh and top this all 3 months after I left, I got a call form the police as they are trying to track him down as he had burnt the place down.
I hope the tw*t dies a terrible shitty death.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:51, archived)
really does make this story (and the previous) a little more surreal than they should be
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:02, archived)
watermelon shit wank cock cranberry bastard arse minge
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 22:14, archived)
The smoke alarms went off because someone had tried to cook Smash by mixing it with cold water and putting it in the toaster.
Twice.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:54, archived)
the best reason I ever heard for someone setting off a fire alarm was at uni, about 2/3am and as I passed the porter's office a rather drunk young chap was carefully explaining that he hit the alarm because it had been staring at him for some time...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 18:28, archived)
Im a lesbian but now but in my youthful and ignornant college days I was unaware or most probably in denial of this, our course was staying in a swanky hotel, I ended up in a room with a guy, just as we were about to "do it" the fire alarm went off and my virginity was saved, I met the guy who set off the alarm next year at uni and thanked him. Im 32 and just finnished my 2nd degree but am sorry to see the same flat mate nitemares still occur. Always, ALWAYS live on your own whereever possible
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 23:32, archived)
...I've made that mistake about 10-times now. Why?!?!
(, Mon 24 Nov 2003, 13:18, archived)
I went to Plymouth Uni too, but I'm a local so I avoided all that Halls/flatmate shit until my final year, when 4 of us friends from the same course moved into a lovely house together. It was all fine, no nasty habits or anything, the perfect houseshare experience. Except we fell out in the last week of our degree and i've not spoken to them since graduation 2 years ago...
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:28, archived)
on my boyfriends 2nd nite in his student accomodation, he came back to the place pissed out of his head as you do. stupidly, the people who designed the place put the lightswitch next to the fire alarm. it being dark and he being quite out of it, it was an easy mistake to make :) unfortunatly, the entire buildings surrounding it were evacuated and 3 fire engines turned up. the girls in the flat (the guys were ok bout it strangely :S)didnt talk to him for 3 days, and he nearly died of utter embarrassment.
Aaaah how i wish i had been there.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 20:12, archived)
decided at 3 am (while stoned) to make a frozen pizza. There was no oven in the kitchen, so he stuck it directly on the disgustingly dirty burners. Fire alarm. 3 am. Two hundrend blind children woken up and scrambled down to the sports court in case we had to evacuate. They fired him a week later, only to find him several days after that living in the loft in cabin 9.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 21:10, archived)
so hard at that one that I needed to go the toilet.
It was too far away though, so I just pissed in a 2-ltr coke bottle
(, Sat 22 Nov 2003, 7:52, archived)
Flatmate No.1
Was a complete pyscho who would talk to himself in the bathroom, shouting "Hello!". Came in one night pissed, tried to cook burgers naked at four in the morning, and almost burned the flat down. He was shagging the other flatmate and when it all went wrong, it esclated into punch-ups, broken glass, suicide attempts etc. He left and was replaced by
Flatmate No.2
Who, after two months in the flat overdosed and had to be carted off to hospital. I hear she lived. Meanwhile,
Flatmate No.3
The ex-girlfriend of flatmate No.1, had found herself a new bloke and moved him in. He was ginger, Irish, stupid and smelly, sadly fulfilling every navvy stereotype. Typical behaviour included leaving stinking trainers in the kitchen, and on one occasion nicking four bottles of expensive Belgian beer from the fridge and when confronted, replacing them with cans of Heineken.
So I moved out. But did it get better? NOOOOOOOOO.
Flatmate No.4
Was also the landlady of the new place that I lived in. The merest transgression would result in a flurry of post-it notes about what had rattled her cage that day. A spoon unwashed? Toilet roll hung the wrong way? You name it. When I eventually escaped and wrote a cheque for the outstanding gas and electric, she complained that it only covered up to the Saturday, when in fact I was leaving on the Sunday.
Yes folks, she was haggling over my share of one day's electricity.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 16:56, archived)
in Cheshire, by any chance? I had a post-it passive-aggressive landlady.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 12:37, archived)
The worst was when he left one on the inside of the toilet lid to remind me and the other housemate to put the seat down. He refused to let us put the heating on even in December so our clothes took upwards of a week to dry. The smell of damp in the bathroom was utterly evil, and he still refused to heat the house even when we got an infestation of green slugs in there.
The worst flatmate ever was an aromatherapist who constantly smelt of pee for some reason. She repeatedly slept with my boyfriend of three years behind my back and very possibly in my bed. Not funny, I'm afraid but true, and it definitely comes under the 'bad housemates' category.
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 14:55, archived)
I spent a week with my brother in leeds during the summer. (Hes studying medicine.He wants to be a surgeon) His flatmates are the three scariest people i have ever met.
When i arrived there i was tired form a day on the trai so i went to bed relativly early. I was awoken by dave at 3am. He was demanding a pair of socks. being kind i gave them to him with no questions. I got them back at the end of the week soaked in dried blood.
Meals were a fun affair. They were always fried. That wasnt so bad. What was bad though was the fact they were cooked using forceps, served in kidney dishes and eaten with a scalpel and fork. One girl didnt eat what we did. She always ate soem brown goop, apparently she was alergic to sugar. I didnt see her much.
The last guy vernon obviously wasnt phased by me in the house and wandered around naked.
He would stand infront of the window for the world to see. Anyone who looked he would shout 'Do you want some!'
They would all practise stitches on each other mainly while drunk.
I really never ever want to be treated by any of them ... ever
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:01, archived)
Not strictly a flatmate, but still... When I first moved to London at the end of 1995, twuntishness on the part of my landlady-to-be meant I couldn't actually start living in my new flat until three weeks after I started the job that had prompted me to move in the first place.
After an unpleasant few days crashing with a FOAF in Stockwell, my old mate Ed offered to put me up at his place in West Hampstead instead. Woo hoo, I said, and packed up and left.
Two days after I started kipping there instead, there was a ring on the doorbell. It was Ed's friend Chris, who I had met once or twice in the past and who had struck me as a bit odd, to say the least - it could be bloody difficult to get his attention, for example, and he would occasionally laugh to himself in a non-reassuring manner.
As it turned out, what was happening was that he was on his way into full-blown schizophrenia, and was already at the "having quite animated conversations with Charlie Manson and Hitler" stage. Now, he wasn't too bad really, except...
(1) He smelt like he washed his hair in Münster cheese
(2) He regarded the bathroom as his special sanctuary, and was given to just sitting in it for hours on end doing absolutely bollock all, especially at useful times like when Ed and I were trying to get ready to go out to work. As a bonus, the fact that he sat in there for hours also gave the bathroom a semi-permanent ronk of goaty goodness.
(3) The first couple of nights he was staying, he decided to sleep on the very small landing. Which meant that you could only gain access to any room in the flat by stepping over the slumbering form of a smelly lunatic, who was given to yelling in his sleep if disturbed in any way.
(4) As is often the case with people who go over the edge, he had got quite into magic, and was given to working what he described as very evil spells in the kitchen, which usually involved breaking all the bottles and glasses he could get his hands on into the kitchen bin. This was a top-floor flat, so there were certain logistical difficulties inherent in trying to get a bin-bag full of broken glass downstairs to the bins.
(5) He liked a smoke, did Chris; in fact, if you were foolish enough to leave, say, a quarter in his immediate vicinity, he would generally pipe it within the space of half an hour.
(6) The one thing that made him tolerable was that he was obsessively clean, and would tidy and hoover the flat and clean the kitchen and bathroom with astonishing diligence. Unfortunately towards the end of his stay he took to doing this at three am. We were both sleeping in the living room, so I would occasionally wake up with someone I knew for a fact was getting more and more deranged by the second standing over me in his underpants, polishing a fistful of knives and cackling to himself over something particularly witty he had just said to Pol Pot.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:06, archived)
Last year there were four of us sharing a house. I'll call the two evil housemates fat and fatter. For a while it was ok, however at the beginning of the second term things went very sour. Fat and fatter didn't like our other housemate and were shits to him, i got sick of it and sided with him. They didn't appreciate this (at least this is why i think they decided to hate me too). Anyway, they thought it would be hilarious to turn the hot water and heating off when they went home one weekend, they also put the burglar alarm on with us in the house.
Fat would have phone calls to her boyfriend at 2 in the morning really loudly, her room and my room were once a single room, now separated by a very thin partition, she might aswell have been talking to me. This along with forgetting to write essays, and then doing them til 4 in the morning meant i was a tired man for most of a term. The noise of someone typing is not the easiest one to sleep with.
I could say a load more, but this would make it too obvious who they were. This is nothing compared to the other stories here, feel sorry for the rest of you.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:15, archived)
With such powerful friends, this guy should not be mocked!
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:51, archived)
"a semi-permanent ronk of goaty goodness"
will now be the title of my first novel.
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 6:35, archived)
That's a pretty good indicator that you have a full-blown hebephrenic schizophrenic on your hands--something about their screwed up chemistry makes them smell like goats.
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 16:09, archived)
He did have this way of sort of vanishing off into himself for long, long periods of time while rocking and grinning twitchily at whatever the hell it was that was going on behind his eyes.
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 21:22, archived)
Number one....Shared a house with a "hygenically challenged" Irish guy who used to walk 5 miles to and from work every day, but only showered once a week. Stank so bad I swear he was sweating Mace through his pores, it used to make your eyes water when he walked in the room. His little foibles included stealing food, not paying the rent and leaving the dirty dishes in the back garden for the rain to wash. He also had a nice habit of disposing of fish and chip wrappers, half eaten pies, crisp packets etc behind the sofa. Which we found after we told him to leave.
Number two...a rather dippy housemate, who had the short term memory of a rather thick goldfish which wasn't helped by heavy pot-smoking. Favourite tricks were to start cooking stuff, forget about it and then leave the house for a night out. How the house didn't go up like a Terraced Towering Inferno I will never know. Another favourite trick was to losing the front door key, but then to leave the front door open when she went out so she could get back in. Yes, we were burgled. Twice.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:15, archived)
used to live on the sixth floor of a block of student flats in Liverpool.
Each floor was made up of eight flats, four on each side. On our floor we also had a shower on each side, a toilet on each side and a kitchen. Our side was relatively normal. Just a couple of girls who played Beatles tracks at 2am.
On the otherside was a Scotsman who played some odd hip-hop at all hours, a fella who frequently had his way with his girlfriend... Very loudly... against the door... which backed onto the lift. Oh they also had shared showers on our side.. Which happened to be across from my room.
The last two where priceless... A couple who where perfectly friendly but had two minor flaws.
The woman used to cook in the kitchen and leave the most disgusting mess possible. Mouldy green tomatos where frequently seen crawling across the work tops.
The money winner was the bloke... He used to save up his... ummm... motions... and then walk straight past the toilet on his side... (literally outside of his door!!!) Then use the toilet on our side, just outside Aled's room... The resulting dump smell would last well into the following week!
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:18, archived)
I used to live with a girl who, although for the most part she was really nice, but she could not cope with drinking, I swear, 2 pints or a couple of vodkas, and she was throwing up everywhere. Unfortunately this didn’t stop her drinking. With alarming regularity (e.g every other day or so) she would stumble home, and throw up (usually on her bed). This wouldn’t be so bad, after all it was in her room, but in her practically comotose state would then drag her filthy sheets, duvet etc… and chuck it all in the bath. So often you’d wake up, go into the bathroom, and be faced with a stomach churning mess. It meant that you could hardly ever be sure to be able to have a bath, and she’d always sleep until late the next day – meaning that using the loo/sink/bath was a difficult undertaking until the next evening….
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:19, archived)
My ex girlfriend took over my bedroom completely - I literally had no access to it. She never paid rent, never did any cleaning, ate my food and constantly hurled abuse at me and my friends. Utter nightmare, and it stayed that way for months because of legal loopholes or some such rubbish.
The day she finally moved out, I wiped my arse with her toothbrush and pissed in her suitcase :)
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:19, archived)
Do I dare? It occurred to me that ways to get back at flatmates may be in order too. My favourites (all tried and tested):
Hypodermic full of milk
Inject into mattress or pillow. Repeat. Move out within a week as it will develop a personality all of its own.
Prawns
Sure, you can sew them into curtain hems or secret them inside curtain rails, but mashed into carpets or hidden on high shelves is just as good.
Spam
Ooh yes. Once you have your ex-flatmate's email address, fill in every popup ad with their details. Which brings me to...
The Great Kosta Campaign
About ten years ago, two of my friends were living in a youth hostel. Kosta, the cnut of a manager evicted them on a weeks notice to move his mates in, kept their deposit and all that sort of malarkey. So they decided to get even.
This being pre-internet days, they used the Royal Mail as a weapon. Every 30-day home trial in the Sunday supplements, every book and record club, every free offer in The People's Friend and My Weekly, the lot.
After about two weeks, things started turning up. They had friends living in the hostel, so they monitored what was arriving. The first, I think, was the matching pair of kitten-shaped doorstops. The six thermal teapots were definitely the second. And then the deluge started happening.
KY-Jelly pessaries, knitting patterns, wool, membership packs for the Humpty Dumpty Club, stamps, you name it. Other people got in on the act as well, and it all kind of blew out of control. The same selection was ordered from every book and record club (these being the days of expensive-to-mail-back vinyl) - the heavier the better. Encyclopediae? Yes please. Four hardbacks (counts as one selection!)? You got it.
Needless to say, other avenues were explored. Plumbers, minicabs, pizzas, reps for conservatories and Stannah Stairlifts were all duly summoned. Goods were ordered from industrial catalogues on the offchance that they might just send stuff on credit and astonishingly, some did.
The afterburner spares for the Bell Huey jetcopter weren't sent, (although a letter of the "Who the watermelon?" variety from Michigan did arrive), and neither was the argon gas laser. But a portable defibrilator was sent by special delivery, and a number of phone calls were recieved enquiring as to the delivery location for the lorry full of tarmac.
Gradually, our moles moved out of the hostel, so the eventual outcome is unknown. But the last we heard, Kosta was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and had "Not know at this address" labels specially printed up.
The boys in blue took a pretty dim view of all this, so it's possibly pushing your luck to go quite this far these days. But it was fun at the time.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:20, archived)
be our guest
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:26, archived)
I lived with a psycho once... utter nutter. In fact, I think he was 'care in the community', but being 19 and shallow, we managed to see past that, and hated him thoroughly. I don't know if it was cracking onto a flatmate on his first night, smelling like rotten coffee, smashing his computer against my wall, or the trail of grease he left all over the appliances (seriously), but eventually we had to get him back. So my top 3:
- 'Wee Mayonaise'
- 'Toilet Spaghetti'
- The time we locked him out of his room during a house party, and he went mental so we called the Police and said he probably had a weapon... 2 vans full of police heavies turned up 5 minutes later, and he wee'd himself.
...Actually, that's probably not funny at all. Just really evil. Whoops.
(, Mon 24 Nov 2003, 13:35, archived)
What did the police have to do with it? And how did they find out?
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:31, archived)
There wasn't much they could (or could be arsed to do), so they were getting pissed off with him. But if they'd got their hands on the perpetrators, they'd have doubtless run their train over me. I mean, them.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 21:16, archived)
but helicopters don't have afterburners. Unless they're Airwolf.
Edit: How strange. Filtering?
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 22:25, archived)
The UH-60, aka the Black Hawk, is jet-powered. It's possible that it has afterburners.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 1:01, archived)
A helicopter uses a jet engine differently. It doesn't just sit in the back and blow out hot gas...
There would be no point in a helicopter with an afterburner. Though plenty of helicopters are jet engine powered.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 9:41, archived)
a type of gas turbine. all it requires is that hot air resulting from combustion of the propellant be processed by a compressor in producing the motive force.
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 17:12, archived)
The fastest helicopter - the British-built Lynx - utilizes after-burner thrust to increase forward motion. It's part of the design that allows it to top 250mph, if my memory serves.
PS Bottle-nosed dolphin. Fantastic.
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 17:08, archived)
now thats just neat! (the filter that is....now i understand the watermelonery)
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 1:22, archived)
In college I had a friend who had a real bastard of roommate. One day, however, my friend discovered that clicking the little ground-test switch on the electric socket in his bathroom also cut the power to the same socket in the bastard roommate's bathroom. So, every morning when the guy would try to shave with his electric razor my friend would push and reset the button randomly.
bzzzt...bzzzzt...bzzzt..."what the hell?!"...bzzzzzt..."ARG!".....bzzzzz...
The bastard became irritated beyond belief. Although an electrician was called in several times he never found the source of the problem.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 5:51, archived)
In my first shared house, I came home once really early in the morning to find that the downstairs toilet light was on and the door locked. I listen for a couple of seconds but the house was totally silent and so was who ever was in the toilet, very strange. Then I figured it out, one of my bastard house mates or annoying friends had dunkenly passed out in there. So I went off to bed giving a satisfying flick of the toilet light switch which was placed on the outside of the room.
Imagine if you will him waking up drunk in the pitch black not knowing where the hell he was or why the hell his pants were round his ankles, and then the difficulting in trying to find the light switch in this state which infact he wouldn't find because it was on the outside.
Fantasticly simple.
(, Sun 23 Nov 2003, 14:50, archived)
kitten-shaped doorstops.. he must have been well happy...
hehe
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 15:13, archived)
I read that and was literally in tears and couldnt breath through the laughter (i must look strange im in the uni library area just giggling to myself). excellent work im very impressed, this must surely be read out on radio :)
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 11:21, archived)
Someone once pissed me off so I got a stannah rep to go round and do an assessment and quote... on his bungalow....
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 22:29, archived)
I lived with 2 girls whos only crime was being as boring as f uck. When we moved out we each took ownership of a utility bill( their idea the spods), of course I demanded money from each of them to clear the gas bill as well as pocketting the credit check the gas company sent me. I felt I deserved it. They used to put those posters up of fluffy kittens saying "amusing " things
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 23:49, archived)
the worst flatmate I ever had was austrian. He could only say 'ham sandwich' in english (though we were very suspicious) and he loved to masturbate over pictures of charlie dimmock.
(this may have been a drug/alcohol-induced dream, btw)
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:27, archived)
The toilet was blocked, so we called the landlord. He couldn't do anything 'til Monday. Fine. We'll visit our friendly neighbours and use their loo for a day. All except Nick - who crapped in the shower. The dirty little bastard.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:31, archived)
who crapped in the bath at halls, he was then known as steve shat in the bath for ever more
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 19:48, archived)
Shagging a bean bag, butt naked, bog roll to hand with a picture of the queen mother (then alive) in front of him.
One from my first year used my chopping board behind my back (not too arsed about) what he did'nt do was wash it. A quick wipe over to get rid of any blood with a cold sponge was about the best he could do. I am amazed i did'nt get food poisoning
I've lived with the obligatory nosy cranberry, wierd nutter, super tidy girl (who was so bad i moved out) and the happy baby orangutan the nicks all you food and milk.
Lastly one from over the summer coated the entire toilet, sink, walls and floor with red wine puke. And left it. I moved out two weeks later (having only used the other bathroom) and it was still there.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:51, archived)
lived with a girl at uni who went a little mad. she made a coat from jacket potato skins and used to talk to it
during the holidays they went camping in dartmoor with a bunch of other girls from the university, and her and her friend shared a tent. the friend tried to strangle her to death, then stabbed herself and ran off onto the moors at 2am and fell in a ditch.
she's currently living in a very secure hospital
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 17:58, archived)
in a drunken rage when he stole the lightbulb out of my room. he then tried to stab me with a bread knife. i then stole his girlfriend, he then smashed every single thing made of glass in the house.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 18:18, archived)
I've had a whole pile of unusual flatmates, including one alcoholic who burned the furniture and smashed a good hundred bottles in the living room, leaving a carpet of broken glass for us to clean up. But he's a great guy with some problems so I wouldn't speak ill of him.
When he moved out of my house though, so did a couple of my other friends, leaving only two of us behind. We'd lived together for three years, since we started university, and were set in our ways a little. Then Sam moved in. We didn't get to meet him first as our ex-housemates had shown him around and said he was fine.
To start with, he wasn't impressed by the mess. We kept the kitchen untidy and that was how we were used to it, a bit of a tip but nevertheless home. Sam didn't see it that way. Within a week he began pacing up and down screaming at us that we were disgusting pigs and should be killed. In between furious rages he told us that we should try crack, which was "good, but greedy." Soon we could tell the nights when he was in a crack fury.
That would be all of them.
One particular night he came downstairs and smashed everything breakable in the kitchen, including around 25 items of our crockery and ten eggs from the fridge.
The next day we carefully broached the subject of when he would clean up this trail of destruction. He said he wouldn't, and that it was our fault for keeping the kitchen untidy. He also asked me if I wanted to go outside and have a fight. I told him I didn't particularly. He never did clean it up and I expect there are still dried egg stains on the carpet and holes in the walls.
Can't tell you how glad I am to be rid of him.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 18:18, archived)
...as he was a damn fine fellow, but my ex-flatmate, who has since moved abroad, used to have a liking for the odd drinking bender.
He had actually moved out, and had planned to go out for a couple of drinks, and then return to his girlfriends house. I had the nightshift, and returned in the morning to find that the front door was open. In a panic I flew into the livingroom believeing I had been burgled, but my laptop and other toys were all there. Then I noticed the smell from the kitchen.
It seems my ex flatmate had drank rather a lot more drink than the odd couple, decided to come back to mine to sleep, and in his drunken state, shat in my waste bin in the kitchen.
Daft thing is, since he moved abroad, I miss the silly sod.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 18:57, archived)
so my boyfriend and i let him sleep on our couch. the following events led to us kicking him out and un-friending him:
1) walked in to him having sex with a hooker on the couch. the whole room stunk of nasty.
2) gave my boyfriend and i scabies.
3) had a party while we were out and chopped his finger off with a kitchen knife on the cutting board and put the severed finger in the freezer. we came home to a bloody mess. he had been taken to the hospital but his "friends" were still there, partying, in our house, and told us what happened.
he didn't come back to stay with us after that. but a few days later, we realized that he had
4) stolen $400 from me.
That guy sucked. we assume that he is dead by now.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 18:31, archived)
I'm not sure what it is, guessing of course that it's some sort of disgusting disease.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 20:24, archived)
are these mites transferred by normal contact or other sorts?
Edit: That could reflect badly on meowmeow, not meant.
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 16:46, archived)
Contact of skin. A hand shake is long enough and you dont know have them until about a month later :s
The best bit is the stuff you have to cover your whole body in from head to toe. When I was younger it was a liquid you had to paint on with a brush. More recently its a cream. Both stink of Tea Tree Oil and you have to store in cold places. I've had it four times and, once my Stepmothers Boys gave it to me, once my best mate gave it to me ( he didn't know he had it at that stage ), once my sisters gave it to me, and once was an ex who had a bunch of nasty things going on after "visiting a friend for the weekend". Needless to say I was out the door when she got back to tell me we she'd been ( I'd already got the inside scoop from her "best mate", but I had to be there to watch her squirm as I told her what I knew. ).
See now if this had been about worse break ups or the sluttist chick you'd gone with, I could add a story or two...
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 20:17, archived)
get me started on watermelon-ing scabies. We spread an epidemic from Tunbridge Wells to Leeds to Australia. A living-scratchy-rashy-itchy-fucking bastard of a nightmare!
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 19:00, archived)
was the g/f of a friend on my course at uni. We moved in together, all happy as Larry at the start. They had the double bedroom, I had the single. It was just the three of us.
Then it began. Here are some of the rules I had to stick by to ensure a harmonious relationship.
1) She had final say over whether or not the telly was on. Even if she wasn't needing the living room for anything else. Blokey programmes like Top Gear were a dead no no. She didn't like it so I wasn't allowed to watch it.
2) If she wanted a cup of tea she could ask me to make one. Even if I didn't want one myself. Of course this rule did not apply in reverse.
3) I wasn't allowed to pace up and down when using the phone.
4) We all take turns cooking for each other in the evenings. However I had to help them cook when it was their turn.
5) I couldn't have old school friends stay over even if her b/f was cool about it, because she didn't know them.
These are just the ones I remember. Contravention of any of the above resulted in a screaming toddler fit.
In essence she was a control freak and her b/f was a spineless cretin. Of course our friendship did not survive this and I can only hope they're still together just so that they don't inflict their misery on anyone else.
BTW how do you tell a mate that in dating terms he's first division/premier league so WTF is he doing with a girl from vauxhall conference? Really she was the worst.
Oh and I forgot, she tried to swap their bedroom for the living room because she wanted more space. I still want to slap her now.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 18:48, archived)
Last year was my first at uni, I got put in a flat with 3 other guys. Two of them I get on really well with, the other guy was from Kenya, his name was Gideon.
To begin with, we would get pissed off that him and his cousin would come back at 4am or other antisocial times, and then put music on as loud as their stereo would go.
Then it moved on to his cousin just coming in and using his room, even if he wasn't there. I went away for a weekend and came back to find my stereo had gone from the kitchen. It was in his room.
We went away for Easter holidays, came back and the majority of the food in the freezer had gone.
But the worst bit would be that he fucking stank. You had to hold your breath to walk past his closed door. He even stank AFTER he came out of the bath. And he left the bath in the biggest mess ever, it was covered in filth all over, and you had to wash it after every time he had been in it.
The housekeeper, when she came to inspect the flat, wouldn't even go in the room it smelt that bad.
We got a sort of revenge, my mate punched a big dent in my door. We blamed it on Gideon. Haha.
And now this year, we have another stinky flatmate, however he makes us laugh, sitting at his computer all day, playing Counter-Strike, occasionaly hearing expletives emerging from his room.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 18:57, archived)
but then again this is only my second year living in shared flats, and two of my flatmates from last year I'm still with. The third one we pretty much voted out when it came time to renew the lease, on grounds of generalised wierd. It tended to be background things, such as the steak knife pinning his timetable up.
When it came to food, none of us ever ate anything he cooked (and he often offered stuff to us). Delights included the day he had lamb chops- he boiled them in water. With nothing added. And proceeded to eat them without any sauce, or any veg, or indeed anything.
He kept on assuring us that the stuff he bought from his work was tasty. He worked in Farmfoods, and generally bought some of the cheapest, nastiest looking stuff ever (microwave chips with gravy already on them anyone?). Our replacement flatmate's Dad is quite high up in farmfoods management. He wouldn't touch most of the stuff from that shop with a 20' bargepole.
Other things? He tok up smoking on the sly away from his parents. But decided not to go with ciggies, but a pipe. then proceeded to smoke in our non-smoking flat, that we can actually get chucked out of for.
Otherwise he generally acted like a complete twunt. I nearly killed him on a couple of occasions.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 19:02, archived)
...Most stuff from Farmfoods is actually quite nice!... Well the stuff thats Birdseye branded and that
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 20:08, archived)
who sort of moved in his demented girlfriend with telling me. she didn't pay any rent or council tax or a share of any of the bills, despite, as far as I could gather, eating about £5 worth of extra leccy every day.
For about four months, I spent so much time in the pub trying to avoid them I think I almost developed a drink problem. On the upside, I saw a lot of football, and lager is lovely.
Eventually, I decided to move out. unfortunately, between me picking up the keys to my new flat and moving my stuff out of the old one, they split up and she robbed everything. My telly, my stereo, about 300 CDs and 500 records, my guitar, the lot.
About a year after that, I became a crap flatmate for a while. My mate moved away to start a new job, but never told me he'd left loads of the bills in his name instead of transfering them to me.
So, for the next four months, until I moved out too, nothing got paid (except the rent). I was never at home (and acting a bit mental) at the time and didn't notice so, eventually, he got a visit from the bailiffs at his new address.
Luckily, we managed to get that one sorted out before he lost any furniture/teeth.
I'm ace now, mind. I cook, I do the dishes, I put the bin out ...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 19:08, archived)
Sorry to be a hogthread but is anyone here among the guilty? As well as almost legendary untidiness I do admit leaving 3 magazine subscriptions (and a paper bill from the newsagent amounting to 150 quid), two large phone/cable TV bills, 2 electricity bills and one hefty gas bill, plus lots of council tax and housing benefits watermelon ups behind. I have since learned to get somebody else's name on the contract.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 19:24, archived)
I managed to go something close to two years without paying council tax. I just pretended it didn't happen. I managed to get my landlord taken to court my never paying a water bill for two years. And one of my former flatmates after running up a huge phone bill on an account in his name and telling BT I'd just moved in. Yay. I Rule.
Other than that I'm lovely, I cook, clean and am generally spiffy. Honest.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 19:28, archived)
I've had trouble getting any sort of bond/deposit back from landlords as they all seem to think that they don't need to return any deposits. so this year (and last year if im honest) i just don't pay the last months rent.
they can happily keep the bond then.......stuff em!!!
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 14:32, archived)
in 4 years, me and my 3 flat mates NEVER paid for water. After we'd all moved out(about 7 months later, in fact) I was back in town and went to have a butchers at the old gaff. It was empty, but I saw something poking out the letter box, so I half-inched it. Turned out to be a water for for over £1000!!! Oooooops! Can't believe we got away with it*
*Famous last words........
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 19:12, archived)
used to, whilst you were cooking, place his face about an inch over whatever it was and take in a big deep lungful and than go "ahhhh". I was close to burning the cranberry face in a fry-up once.
Another flatmate once stole the birdbox from the next doors garden, shat in it, nailed to the living room wall and set fire to it.
the cranberry
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 19:25, archived)
smelly feet,
scary couple,
bloke who sniffed loudly while running in a circle in the tiny yard (i think he also bought a girlfriend),
a house of people obbssessed with having immaculate kitchen surfaces but who were fine with leaving vegetables to rot by the bin,
a guy who tried to sleep with me til i threatened him with a scapel
downstairs neighbours who believed it was their right to play crappy dance music 24hrs a day very very loudly
a landlady (plus boyfriend) who wouldn't let us have anyone come round the house after 10pm (because him, being so manly, would have to answer the door)
same landlady thought i had left for christmas and broke into my room at 1am while i was still there
also same landlady used our rooms to house other people when we went home for holidays (we found evidence)
different landlord who would throw us out if his friends were coming round
scary housemate who we never saw and just moved things loudly in her room
and also, in my first year at uni a guy stayed over and sleep-peed all over my housemates extensive CD collection
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 19:50, archived)
This guy i'm living with now, I dunno, he...he's just a C.U.N.T!! About a week after we all moved in we had to have a house meeting, which turned out to be because he (and he alone) was irritated by dirty plates being left on the side instead of washed up or put in the dishwasher. So from that meeting we had a rota for washing up and cleaning the kitchen, a rota for tidying the living room. When it's his turn to do the dishes, he leaves them to stack up all day before cleaning them at 2 in the morning, and then if any plates are left on the side he sticks notes up "reminding" us to keep tidy.... He steals my milk, and even after I explained to everyone I don't have a problem with sharing, still denies he does it even after he admitted it to the others...Tried to worm out of his share of the cost of networking our computers so we can share broadband even though he's got mummy and daddy paying his way (Ikea furniture and pans and plates and glasses thank you very much)...is very very rude and up himself, if you say hello to him he just grunts, "uhm", when I offered to help him and his mum to move his stuff in he completely blanked me...bitches to the others that I wake him up with my music when I get up in the morning (bearing in mind I get up at 9 at the earliest) but won't bother mentioning it to me...i could go on...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 19:50, archived)
#1 was obsessed with the SCA and medieval renaissance type stuff... played with swords in the house a lot (which wasn't too bad... as I am a fencer.) However, one night, in a drunken argument challenged a friend of his to a dual with my epees. Imagine waking up at 2:30 am to two guys in the hallway hacking at eachother while the neighbors are all watching, stunned.
#2 bought one of those 'mini-fridges' for his room one december. Brought it back to his room and filled it with his groceries... that week, he piled up his laundry around it, and forgot about the fridge. A month later, he finally got around to washing his laundry and found the fridge... he opened it, hoping the food was still good, except A. he had never plugged it in, and B. it was right next to the heater in his room... it took two months for the smell to air out of there...
#3 was #2's friend... He never seemed to bathe, and had a list of 14 year old skanky girlfriends (he was 23). As #1 and I were almost never home due to work, school, and other activities, we thought his presence when we were around was purely coincidental. when #2 moved out, (it was a guest room, so he only took his clothes with him, and we never went in there) things were really quiet for about a week, until one night, we both woke up to the sound of a baby screaming in the 'empty' room. Sure enough, #3 was there with a 15 year old girl, and THEIR 4 week old son screaming at the top of his lungs (she had run away from her parents house with the kid, and he had apparently been living in #2's old room, so he invied her to stay). He had never paid a dime of rent, and this was certainly news to us. Furthermore, he refused to leave, insisting that he had taken over the spot on the lease, and had made a deal with the landlord separately for rent. Certainly, as I was dating the landlord's daughter at the time, I would have known about this... the police agreed when they escorted the three of them off.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 20:05, archived)
Sounds like some people I know in Aberystwyth. Tell me I'm wrong..... please
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 21:56, archived)
you're quite wrong... I live thousands of miles away in Reno, NV, USA
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 0:08, archived)
the first guy, lets call him chris because that't his name, was a complete loser who could never find money for food, bills or rent, but somehow managed to find plenty to feed his speed addiction. basically from friday afternoon to sunday night he would hoover the stuff up his nose and talk at me, non-stop with little streamers of white foam dangling from the corners of his mouth, for hours and hours on end - even when i had ignored him to the point of going to sleep. his favourite passtime was picking up girls in clubs and getting them to sodomize him with a 10 inch dildo all weekend. he was doing this once when he knocked the phone off the hook in his room and i was speaking to my boss on the the other extention. imagine trying to explain what the noise was to my very confused boss on the other end. he would also invite random drug-fucked people fron nightclubs back to our house, so i would be kept awake all night by people on everything from ketamine to crack wandering around the house and playing loud music.
flatmate number 2, however, made this guy seem like a dream flatemate. his name was jo, he was a 40 year old ex-mercenary from africa and he was a deranged alcoholic psychopath! he worked 16 hour shifts every day in a slaughterhouse, butchering animal carcasses (in his defence there was always a good supply of meat in the fridge), and spent the remaining hours of the day between shifts getting hard drunk. when i got up for work in the morninghe was usually on about his 8th can of special brew (he only slept about 2 hours a night)- and once confesed to me that he drank aftershave when he had ran out of alcohol. he would regularly come home from clubs at 3 in the morning, burst into my room where i was chilling with friends getting stoned, and regail us with stories about the best way to kill someone with a bayonet, or how him and his mercenary friends had cut the soles off someones feet to torture a confession out of them (this guy could only communicate by shouting and would often get that glazed-over, having a flashback look in his eyes). this would often be acompanied by one of my poor stoned mates being manhandled into a physical demonstration of the atrocity! he would also regularly turn up covered in blood explaining that someone had looked at him funny and he had stabbed them. he only ever slept with prostitutes, and would treat anyone female that came near the house as such (my friends, sister, mother etc), offering them money to sleep with him.
i moved out of that house a nervous wreck and fearing for my life / sanity!
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 20:22, archived)
drinking aftershave he'd have fresh breath at least...
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 8:45, archived)
seems to hate fresh air. Every time I open the window she dashes to close it right away, screaming at me that she's going to get sick because of the cold air. Out flat has no air conditioning so the only way to get some fresh air is to open the window. Most of the time our flat is hot as hell and the air could be cut by a knife.
She's also into making deco's, so there's glitter everywhere. When I had a flue, I found glitter in my cough mixture.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 20:48, archived)
when my friends shaired my room in halls of residence one night after a party, 2 of them ran out in their nightwear jumping on any guy in my block that when past.
No wonder there too scared to talk to me...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 20:55, archived)
100% fact. Last year there were two Chinese guys in our halls of residence and neither of them slept much, though when they did it was torture for the guys next door because they snored like braking trains. The guy who lives next door to me now is worse though- he and his friends have no concept of time. So his mates will come to the front of the building (we're on the third floor) and shout for him to come to the window, and then they'll have a shouting 'conversation' in Cantonese. At 7am. We've asked him not to, but bless him, he doesn't understand.
The Chinese guys were otherwise OK except for the fact they will set fire to the kitchen on a regular basis. And they will nick your stuff out of the kitchen if you let them. But that's not as bad as the stoner we lived with last year. He was from Shrewsbury, which in my experience is the coldest place in the world (though I never dare to venture outside the train station). I was once up at 6am to go mountaineering, and I went into the kitchen for breakfast, and he's in there. So we have a normal conversation, I'm sitting at the table eating my Rice Krispies and he's standing talking to me, and after a minute or two I noticed something on the table that had been there the whole time but I hadn't paid attention to. It was the biggest bag of hash you've ever seen. From then on we knew he was just going to be a stoner, and a smelly, lazy and dumb one at that, which gave us (or rather, my more evil Scouse flatmates) some good excuses to play pranks on him. But there's already been a good thread on that subject.....
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 21:49, archived)
well some tricks will work on a stoner that won't work on an ordinary member of the human race. For example- covering his doorway with newspaper. Every day for a week. Also, setting water-bomb traps for whenever he opended his door. And soaping the lino corridor to turn it into a skate rink. There was also a dor halfway along the corridor that stoner boy had to pass through when he went to leave his pipe-clogging hairs in the shower. So we'd lock it and sit in the kitchen watching TV for an hour or two, whilst he just whined in his yellow bathrobe.
Now these pranks wouldn't be so grat if they were played on a normal person, but they're worth it just to watch the reactions of a stoner boy. Like when he rips through the newspaper barrier over his door like the Incredible Hulk and then collapses into the giggles. Or when you throw water bombs at him, so he goes to the shop and gets some to avenge, but you go out on the piss for the night and find him asleep in the kitchen with a cache of fully loaded water bombs (guess what happens next....)
Ahhh..... sometimes I wonder if I wasted my life. And then I wonder what I'd be like if I was Stoner Boy. Ha Ha Ha...
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 23:36, archived)
You'd be in your room reading, or watching telly, or picking your nose and generally minding your own business and suddenly a soft voice, right in my ear would whisper "Hi".
I usually screamed and leapt three feet in the air but she didn't seem put off. Even after I moved out I was constantly twitchy for about three weeks.
She also didn't pay her rent, and practised the piano in her room VERY LOUD, in the run-up to our finals. And she once organised a dinner party for a mutual friend, but as soon as she and I began cooking the three-course meal together, she realised she'd "forgotten to get something", fucked off and came back just as we were tucking into the starter. She then asked me to contribute to the cost of the food - I didn't.
But the silent footfall thing was definitely the worst.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 21:35, archived)
I can do that silent thing and usually I dont realise I'm doing it. Quite often I can just fade away into the background & reappear when you least expect it.
The best bit is when you and your mates are drunk and you change seats and make you mates paranoid about their mental health as "they could've sworn, I was in that chair".
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 16:29, archived)
just to make sure they don't appear?
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 21:36, archived)
with that story about me making my flatmate talk to a pensioner walking his dog, while wearing no clothes and holding a litre of gin, there'll be trouble.
Although the look on the labrador's face was a picture. Pensioner took it very well...
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:14, archived)
for Rees and Paul to mention me and my girlfriend. We were quite twuntish to them.
In our defence they moved two of their mates into a cupboard for about a month (it was about 3ft by 6ft) and they were dealing drugs from one of the bedrooms (and don't get me started about the 2am parties, the fact that they used to use our toilet-paper when we left it out but had their own supply to use when we didn't).
Oh, and for about a month they'd spent all their money on pot and couldn't afford loo-roll so they just used pages out of a paperback novel that I'd left in the bathroom. Ick.
And they stole my milk.
Although the time I got back and found that Rees had decided his new video made a "squeaking noise" so he decided to fix it, took it apart, couldn't put it back together again and then cried for about an hour looking at the remains of his video still cheers me up.
(, Sat 22 Nov 2003, 8:19, archived)
maybe this won't beat "Mo", but it is still a bit rank.
Flatmate, lets call him "bob", often did a number of things that often resulted from his inordinatley high libido.
Unfortunatley for bob, his physical characterisitics often did not allow his ends to match his means.
So he was a short squat hairy lecherous perv who was 26, lived with 19-20 year olds and still worked in a supermarket. He nearly hit me when i had him up about that. anyway
bob had a crush on a friend of mine. he would sit next to her on the couch and openly look down the back of her pants and tell her what colour panties she was wearing. she would walk away and he would follow.
He would sleep on a matress in the lounge with his ear pressed up against my bedroom door to listen to me and my girlfriend at night. I would go to have a shower and find him asleep, ear still pressed to my door, curled up with his fingers in his mouth.
He would often comment on the various noises that people would make while having sex. often immediatley after
He would sometimes constantly suck his ring and index fingers, while wearing nothing but a pair of very small shorts.
He would also sit and eat oranges in the lounge by putting half the orange into his mouth, and then noisely spitting the fibre of the fruit into a plastic bag. I think that ofended me the most for some reason.
his room smelled of moist ejaculate, as did his bed, he had the only vcr in the house, which is why we would sometimes be in his room. we called it the jizz temple.
one day he made it halfway to the toilet, saw there was no toilet paper, fell over on the stairs and demanded that we go and get him some because he was on the verge of crapping his pants.
The one day he was caught on an upstairs landing masturbating while listening to girls talking in the lounge.
then he moved to a location three hours travel away, still kept his job at the supermarket next door to us, and demanded we let him continue living in our lounge.
lets just say it ended "badly".
I somehow feel better
thankee.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 21:41, archived)
that's pretty damn bad. you guys have got me worried about sharing a college room next year.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 2:30, archived)
like quite a character. Does he live in the US? Dear god, I hope not. AAAAH!
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 21:19, archived)
right, where to start....
usual run of the mill annoying stuff: he hadn't played a games console before moving in with me...he now cant stop (8hrs straight is his record without so much as a toilet or eating break - 24hr coverage has not yet commenced) - but he doesnt like playing multiplayer games...so watching him struggle at games is the order of the day; he rarely washes up; he cleans anything even less...
slightly more annoying stuff: he leaves his used cutlery + plates on the floor (in a doorway) in the sitting room - always a pleasant wet foot surprise!; he consumes one type of food at a time...today's example being orange juice - 3 cartons gone in a day and a half....before moving onto another form of sustainance - usually eggs or cheese
very annoying stuff: drinks far too much at parties (but hey, i (cant) hear you cry, we're students)...well...too much for this chap leads to sexual "harrasment" on any good looking ladies in the vaccinity, until we're asked to "take him home" by a boyfriend who realises it is not a joke. On the way home he may (has) become violent, once biting a good friend (biting - like a shark, not nibbling), bringing her to tears and leaving indentations for a good 3 weeks afterwards...
+ he plays the violin. aaaaaargh!
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 22:39, archived)
but she ended up being deflowered on my brand-new comforter by my supposedly gay best friend. Oh, and did I mention the time I came home to find her hand mirror and sketchbook, open to two pages of labia sketches, on the floor of my bedroom? Eeeeewwwwwwww.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 22:42, archived)
stuck in the fibres of the rug I sit and lay on was enough to kill any dubious libidinous urges that particular spectacle may have roused. That, and I'm a chick--other people's labias just don't do it for me. Boobs, on the other hand. . .
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 18:26, archived)
Still, that's pretty funny.
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 7:28, archived)
Once had a serious fly infestation in a really nice house in Hammersmith, all due to one bugger in particular deciding that everyone else should clean up his mess in his kitchen. We stopped and ate out a lot instead.
Then I moved to Victoria. Again, nice pad, great flatmates, and I really liked the girl living there... except for the fact she used to leave the door wide open whilst having exceptionally noisy sex with her boyfriend.
I'm now in Battersea (such fun being a yuppy), and am gradually getting used to putting up with the horrifically ugly lesbians upstairs having noisy bang bang sex with something that appears to make the entire house vibrate.
One day, one fine fine day, flatmates won't do this to my head.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 22:49, archived)
I lived with this guy once who used to nick anything that wasnt nailed down it was stuff like Playstation control pads, food, money, CDs, bits of my computer, everything. So anyway one day me and my other house mates decided to route though his room one day to recover all our stolen stuff, after about 10 minutes of going through his private stuff we came across a 5 CD's marked 'Stuff'. After looking through them we discovered 3 and a half gigs of ladyboy porn. We then found a bag full of er...womens clothes, a large dildo, a few pics of him dressed in said clothes and some letters that other crossdressers had sent him. Anyway we posted the pics off to his mum, dad, brother, sister etc... and hung all his womens clothes out on the washingline. He moved out a few weeks later. Surprisingly enough he hates all our guts now.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 23:03, archived)
I moved from Sydney to Melbourne because my "best friends" told me they were clean and had a spare room. The said i would love it. I arrived after a 20 hour bus trip from hell to find them hanging out and waiting for their dealer. They charged me me three times more rent than the property was worth, didn't pay any of it and had regular fisting sessions in the spa tub next to my bedroom with paper thin walls. After I moved out they hassled me for money they thought I should pay for rent, even though it all went up their arms along with my cd's, the rented tv and their dignity. cranberry
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 23:05, archived)
but you can't beat my current housemate, who spends much of his time in the front room, and is currently muttering "c.u.nt-c.u.nt-c.u.nt-c.u.nt" occasionally interspersed with a louder "W.A.N.KER" whilst `watching` the international weather report on teletext. with the sound on mute. for hours on end.
Maybe I'll move out...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 23:16, archived)
An otherwise ok flatmate began vomiting in his room all over his bed and floor. The living room and hallway got suitably splashed as he was running to the sink in the kitchen.
He then left to catch his flight in the morning and didn't clean it up. I got home from a holiday in Budapest about a week later.
bastard
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 23:16, archived)
used to get stoned with us, then insist on turning all the lights out and putting a scream mask on and stalking around the flat with a big kitchen knife. thing is, it was never, ever, scary. at first it was mildly disconcerting, but after a while we just got used to it. thing is, whenever we had guests he'd walk in wearing his scream mask and totally freak out whoever it was that happened to be visiting.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 23:30, archived)
also had one of his mates to stay completely randomly once, guy seemed nice enough then just suddenly passed out on the sofa. me and my mate went out and left sofa coma guy and came back totally pissed. we were trying to see how much we could get away with before he woke up, so:
1: we opened a tin of fish paste we'd lifted from tescos earlier under his nose and he went 'mmmm' to the smell. but didn't wake up.
2: we put plastic bags on his feet.
3: we put loads of hairgel in his hair so when he woke up he'd have made hair.
4: i jumped over him.
anyway, the next day he woke up and didn't say a word about anything from the night before. it was only later on that we found out that he was a junkie who'd just gone cold turkey and was on the run from yardies on the south coast. he'd abandoned his girlfriend and family. i guess we were the bastard flatmates then.
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 23:41, archived)
When I was a first year student I was put in a house with bedsits run by an elderly Irish couple - indoors before 11.00PM and lights out at 12.00. Needless to say I would have moved out anyway, but I had the flatmate from hell to precipitate things.
Like I say it was a bedsit, single roomer with 2 single beds and shared bathroom. Apart from this person's personal hygeine which was lacking, when I was tucking into for bye-bye's with the lights out I would hear the crunching of biscuits and wake up to see the discarded empty packet on the floor
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 23:44, archived)
This is'nt necessarily a bad roommate, but for just over a year.. this guy ate chicken flavoured supanoodles. I wonder what hes up to...
(, Mon 17 Nov 2003, 23:58, archived)
... probably about 200/120.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 17:07, archived)
They staged an intervention because Gilly borrowed their spoons when she moved in recently. Although she washed and returned the spoons after eating, these girls were upset enough to gather and confront her on her third day living there.
"Spoons are too personal to share" they said. Do these girls take their own cutlery to restaurants, or do they only eat at those fine establishments that use disposeables?
Living a 2-hour drive from home, she couldn't just run out and grab her dishes and utlery right away. For 2 weeks, she ate off a Frisbee and used a bowl her former roommates found after she moved out. She poured herself a bowl of cereal the day after the intervention and tried to borrow a spoon while the girls were out, but they had emptied the drawer and hidden the spoons in their rooms! Gilly had to drink her cereal from the bowl.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 0:10, archived)
who promptly went mad. For no apparrent reason, Jen would stop the laundry mid-cycle and dump the sopping wet clothes on Mel's bed. She also poured bleach into a load of coloured laundry once. Another day, she unplugged all the phones and hid them in her room. She brought a different strange man home every night, picked up at a bar or off the street.
The final straw was when Jen woke Mel at 2AM on a weeknight to get her to take her out to buy marijuana. Mel got out shortly after that!
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 0:17, archived)
manages to piss on the toilet seat. Everytime he takes a piss.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 0:33, archived)
except he always peed on the floor. I'd get up in the middle of the night for the loo and step barefoot into a nice puddle of syrupy wee. I embarrassed the crap out of him one night, as he was still up and entertaining friends in the lounge room. I went in and in front of everybody asked him to clean his pee off the floor.
Same guy stole the quilt off my bed one night. While I was asleep under it. He had been fucking some guy who was going to stay the night, but he only had a single size quilt. Decided mine was a better size for two people. That guy gave him crabs that night.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 5:36, archived)
I (my dad) once had a couple of flatmates that were total loons. And not in a good way. At one point they filled up a jumbo-size garbage bag with water, hauled it up to the roof of their 11-story building, and proceeded to throw it off. The force upon impact could have killed somebody. Had somebody been there.
Meanwhile...
I knew somebody that got into an argument with a flatmate of theirs over who would take out the trash. Being fed up, the flatmate retreated to the bathroom. Not letting him off that easily, my friend started pounding on the door. His flatmate answered, with one hand behind his back. He then proceeded to chase my friend around the flat, with a turd in his bare hands. He threw it. He missed. Thank goodness.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 0:42, archived)
So how does that work then? Is it the usual (i.e. a time machine) or something more perverse?
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 11:09, archived)
One of my flatmates would spend the entire weekend lying on the sofawatching Electric blue videos, eating Bovril and DairyLea cheese French bread rolls and wanking in to Peach yoghurt containers. He was also partial to wetting himself in his shiny Adidas shorts in the shower.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 1:15, archived)
but who am I to resist the strident demands of b3ta?
Current roommate! Ah, let me take a moment to savor the love I feel for her. Much the same sort of love that one would feel for a particularly tenacious strain of the stomach flu.
She does many things to endear herself to me.
Bleaching her hair in the room is bad enough, as that stuff smells horrible and she never opens a window. It is made worse, however, when she spills it on the carpet. Our carpet now looks like it's got the mange.
I wouldn't mind her watching TV, if she didn't happen to do it at 4 am. With the volume on high. When I have class the next morning at 8 am. And it really would help if it wasn't MTV. MTV all the time. She'll watch the same episode of a show 15 times. The 16th time she'll say, "Oh, I've seen this before." Then she'll leave it on and watch it again.
If I have something like yogurt in the fridge, and she wants to put something of hers in, she'll take my yogurt out and put it somewhere to spoil. I didn't find one for two months, and when I finally did I opened it and discovered a thriving colony of something green and fuzzy.
She will go out and get roaringly drunk as often as she possibly can. This would be annoying but tolerable on Fridays and weekends, but when she does it on weeknights, when *I* have class in the morning, it is not a good time.
She has a tendency, when drunk, to bring random frat guys back to the room. I once was rudely awakened at 5 am on a Wednesday night (or Thursday morning) by sounds of, ahem, thrusting. And squealing. I put my hands over my eyes and said, very loudly, "It is fucking 5am. I need to go to class in 2 hours. I can fucking hear you, you know. Get. Out."
The sounds stopped for about minute. Then a guy's voice said, "That must be your roommate." Dear Roomie said, "Yeah. That's her." The thrusting and squealing then recommenced. I think I was in shock for about a minute, then I got up, stormed out, and slept in one of my hallmate's rooms.
Screamed bloody murder at her the next morning, though. She didn't talk to me for two days. Thought I was being "unreasonable". I yelled all sorts of things about 'common decency' and 'the mildest of regard for human beings'. Eventually I came to learn that these were concepts with which she was not acquainted.
If I don't get a single next year someone in Housing is going to get it.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 1:36, archived)
Why the watermelon would you open a yoghurt that's been 'evolving' for 2 months??!???!!!!!
AND, then be surprized to discover a whole new colony of lifeforms!?!
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 13:51, archived)
I had a flatmate once that was always up himself, intimidated the female flatmates, and tried to believe everyone (or at least himself) that he was the next soccer world star, the weedly little prick also wanted to borrow my pushbike and when I said no, he used it as spare parts for his broken bike because he couldn't undo the lock on it. needless to say I helped the female flatmates put laxatives in his "energy protien drinks" and I reclaimed my bike parts by reducing his bike to a box of parts itself! And the prick also borrowed the landlady's 4WD-truck without permission (when no one but the landlady is allowed to touch the truck!)
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 2:01, archived)
Several years ago, I shared an apartment which featured bedrooms connected by a door with windowpanes which had been painted over and covered with corkboard for privacy and good measure.
One night, I was suddenly awakened by the sound of shattering glass. My roommate had thrust his leg through the glass in the door separating our bedrooms.
As the shock of this rude awakening wore off, I realized the leg-through-the-door incident was the result of a particularly raucous round of roommate mansex.
More importantly, I realized I had to pee. So, ignoring the slaughtered-yak noises of my roommate's sexual sturm-und-drang, I trudged to the bathroom, turned on the light, and began to step on the cold tile floor...
...until I realized that the ENTIRE FLOOR WAS SMEARED WITH FECES.
After two days of silent mortification and rage, I finally confronted the roommate about the incident. He told me that he "had a few too many to drink" that night, and a friendly bar customer helped him home and up the stairs. And then, my roommate said he tried "really hard to hit the toilet", but was too drunk and pooped on the floor. He then tried to clean up, but apparently he was too drunk to do anything but spread his dookie across the entirety of our bathroom floor.
And then he had sloppy drunken muddy butt sex with the person who helped him home, and smashed a big hole through the wall with his leg.
(Oh, and two weeks later I found a crackpipe in the living room.)
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 2:04, archived)
and the disturbing bit is, i really don't know why.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 4:30, archived)
And the story has given me the wrong idea about crackpipes now.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 15:13, archived)
someone threw up in the bathroom.
Although he was too stoned to clean it up, he left a very polite, well worded and funny note apologising & promising to clean it up in the morning.
(never saw him smoke after that)
What a nice chap!
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 20:17, archived)
Whilst qualifying many moons ago, I had to spend a fortnight in Bath. I was given a list of short-term rooms to rent and picked the one closest to St. Martin's hospital.
I turned up and met the landlady and her "sister", two fairly pretty women in their early thirties. Quite obviously lesbian lovers, but never mind. Got on very well with them, they let me have a key and after a couple of days they even made me free sandwiches for lunch. What more could you ask for?
At the end of the first week there was a cock-up at the hospital and I came back in the early afternoon. I didn't notice the closed curtains as I opened the door, but I did notice the interesting goings-on in the living room. One of them (the slightly less attractive one, unfortunately) was naked, trying to cover herself with sofa cushions, whilst the other was looking frantic and holding a camera. Which was nice.
After much panic and apologising, they explained that they sold the photos (which I think was supposed to make me feel better). Obviously, I laughed it off - it was their house, they weren't expecting me back and, to be honest, what man would complain about sharing a house with two vaguely attractive lesbian pornographers?
They tended to stay in their bedroom after that. I still got sandwiches though. And the less attractive one bought me a red tie, which I still wear to anything vaguely official.
And before you ask - no, I didn't see any of the photos. Although it turned out they were some kind of foot fetish specialists, so I don't think I missed anything.
Sadly the story ends on a distinctly shite note - the day before I was due to leave, the less attractive one was run down by some drink-driving bastard at a pelican crossing. She suffered massive injuries and I never did find out if she lived or not. Ho hum.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 2:44, archived)
*^^^^^^^^^^^*
NOT A TYPO!
You got pick this one for your radio!! I dare anyone to Beat this one.
Ok, at uni, Lived with the thickest skankiest b*stard ever.
Ok we shall start with, he told us that he was german, but yet his surname was 'stevens' and both his parents were scottish, we asked for proof but he said that he didnt have a normal passport, he had a NATO passport and its was classified, so he couldn't show it to anyone. This was due to being in the army in excess of 20 years, even tho he was just 21, such a prodigy must of been recruited in the womb!!
He claimed to have expert knowledge in everything, even tho he was doing a foundation course in engineering, he was only doing this to get 'back to basics' He went as far as to argue with me over some phonetic aspects of the portuguese language, he also tried to teach me some portuguese pronunciation, unknowing to him that im fluent in the language, and wouldnt accept when i told him he was wrong, he said that i must of learnt it outta some 'average language book', well actually i learnt it from my parents, but hey who am i to argue with such a GENIUS!
He claimed that he was quite buff (fat B*stard), he also claimed that he could lift in excess of 90 Kg (roughly 180 lbs) with one arm alone, This was followed by his claim that he managed to complete an army's Basic fitness test (an assault course and a 5 mile run) in 15 minutes, this man was a machine!!
OK then this brings us on to, his personal hygiene, he was seen to shower only twice in the year that he lived with us, and also he claimed to have piles, which meant he couldnt sit down properly, wich led us to finding lots of poo on the actual toilet seat itself.
Now, comes the cooking, his favourites include fried black pudding on spaghetti laced with vinegar, and once he tried making 'honey roast ham' by placing some bacon, oil and honey in a frying pan, and then promptly placing the whole thing in the oven to 'roast'. He once asked for advice on how to thicken up a stew' which we was advised to mix a table spoon of flour with water to make a paste, then add it to thicken the stew, he was later that evening reported to be mixing some flour and water, on the spoon it self and moaning that there wasnt enough room on the spoon for such an activity.
Ooh, he went to get a tatoo of a dragon on his lardy arm, later the same day came back with half a dragon, he said that it looked more original that way, later found out from the tattoo guy himself that he cried so much, they had to stop and he had agreed to go back later to finish the tatto but he never actually returned.
He actually stayed 3 months longer than the tenancy agreement intended, he moved out 3 days before the new person ahd to move in, in which we had to repaint the room, hoover the carpet 4 times and and febreeze the whole place, the landlord was so disghusted by the state of his crusty bed, he actually went out and bought a new one.
When he did his washing he would leave his 'skid' riden boxers drying in the kitchen radiator for all to see. Oh, and when he went out 'moshing' he always wore the same outfit, some leather trousers that looked way too tight, a single leather waistcoat and a white bandana, he dressed this way because it made him look 'suspicious'. What a w*anker!!
These are just some of the things i remember.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 3:28, archived)
Ack, i know someone just like him. not my flatmate, one of my friend's. He also had half a tatoo (no dragon, a nude lady. AAAA! RUN!) which he flexed at my friend sometimes and said "come one, get some watermelon!" He was the same way. Never knew him too well, he moved out quick when he met her biker/gun toting boyfriend.
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 21:30, archived)
compared to most of the others here, but I used to live with a guy who would leave half eaten swiss-rolls everywhere (including under sofa cushions, to be discovered months later) and also leave jam-laden knives firmly adhered to any available surface. Perhaps his worst habit, however, was blowing his nose on toilet roll and stuffing the used tissues down the centre of the roll - presumably for someone else to recycle later if they got desperate? Oh and he threw up in one of our pans one night too.. Good job nobody mistook it for last night's bolognaise leftovers!
(Sorry, mate, if you're reading this, I couldn't resist :)
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 3:37, archived)
.. I lived with a manic depressive epileptic amd a lad with a phobia of bins.
The bin phobia lad could not bring himself to either buy a bin or walk down the hall to the kitchen bin, so he used to throw his rubbish such as banana skins, apple cores, used condoms etc into the corridor outside his room.
The manic depressive epileptic decided to see what it would be like to take 10 Prozacs one day whilst I was at my girlfriends house; 'bin boy' found him passed out on the landing and called an ambulance in a fit of panic.
The paramedics fed 'MDE' boy charcoal in a hope that it would soak up the drugs. He promptly thew up the charcoal / drugs / food leaving black puke all over the bathroom walls and floor.
I moved in with my girlfriend soon after.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 5:06, archived)
Again at uni is where we met ours... myself and my partner had to share digs with people who would regularly go out clubbing or to score drugs and wouldn't pay rent or bills. The landlord used to visit but they were always out, the local kebab shop sent around a black belt in karate with a fistful of bounced checks, and the manager of barclays bank once visited to enquire about the amount of money one of them had borrowed (well £9,500 in a year and a half was a bit excessive seeing as this was before tuition fees - oh and the bank manager did look like the grim reaper). The landlord finally snapped and threw us out when he came to chase one flatmate for rent (unfortunately he had brought round some prospective tennants fo the next term) and found a sink full of puke that hadn't been cleaned for over a week in his room instead. I thought he was going to have a coronary on the spot as he went deeper and deeper shades of red.... oh and it all ended in a fight and me being threatened "I'll stab you in the neck" ..... nice flatmates.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 7:14, archived)
and have never really had any nasty flatmates. Unfortunately I think I was always the worst one in my student houses.
This usually involved alcohol and me needing to be looked after by other people (yeah yeah, I know - what a surpise!).
Anyway, I would regularly get pissed, come home and watch telly loudly whilst shouting random obscenities at it. Usually I'd be ranting about a completely different programme to whatever I was watching.
I threw up in the lounge a few times too - once was after drinking a few bottles of red wine. Definitely not pleasant. Also the first time I threw up in there I decided it'd be a good idea to clean it up using the hoover. Even now, the hoover probably stinks of puke everytime it's used...
Another time my housemate and his best mate came home from a club to find a "dead body" in our front garden. I'd failed to manage to work my key into the door and decided to sleep underneath my bedroom window. My friends then had to carry me into the house after, unfortunately, waking me up - causing me to hurl abuse at the top of my lungs.
In other situations it was not unknown for me to wake housemates at similar times of the morning repeatedly tapping my key against the door because I kept missing the keyhole.
There was also the time I walked into my (female) housemate's room in the middle of the night because I forgot where I was and walked to where my room was at my parents. Fortunately, I managed to realise my mistake before things got too serious...
I'm sure I did more than this, but that's all I can really remember off the top of my head. Like I say - wasn't a flatmate from hell, more of an irritating bastard.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 7:27, archived)
You could watch it whizz reound and mix with all the other carpet crud to make a 'lovely' puke and fluff smoothie!
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 14:05, archived)
Her name was Karen, she lived for a hellish year in our flat in Edinburgh. She had a grating Weedgie accent, we should have guessed.
She had a boyfriend called Frank, who was a bit older, and married. Thinking back, we maybe got off on the wrong foot as when they both came round the first time and another flatmate, Nancie, made some comment about her father having come to view the flat with her. AT Frank moved in with her when he was eventually chucked out the house by his wife, we only knew this becasue of the almost daily letters adressed to Frank from the CSA.
Frank was a star, the first night they stayed he, drunk he claims though I'm not convinced, turned up naked in another (female) flatmate's bedroom.
Karen and Frank were drinkers, big drinkers. We quickly discoverd that it wasn't safe to leave booze in the kitchen. At first, she would apologize for the stolen booze with some excuse and replace it, but when the replacements started going astray as well, and when Nancie discovered a bottle of her gin was more than half water, we realised it was a lost cause.
They'd go out on benders and roll home in such a state that she rarely seemed able to operate the lock on the fromt door. Sadly, the doorbell was still within her grasp. Sometime near the end of her stay, after listening to her ringing and banging on the door for at least half an hour, I finally gave in and opened the door for her. "About f*cking time" she sluured in her Weedgie drawl, "what kept ye?", and staggerd past me into the flat.
Karen and Frank were fighters too, they argued like no couple I've ever met. Drink fueled arges at three in the morning were common. As the atmosphere in the flat plummete they tended to eat take-away food in her room and the fights regularly seemed to involve trowing the food, unless it was some kinky game. She came out mid fight to take a phone call with fried rice in her hair like glitter. The pinnacle though, was when the police arrived in the smal hours to tell us, with a bareley straight face, that a complaint of domestic abuse has been received. The reason for the officers smirks were made clear when Karen came out to claim that she had been assaulted with a kebab. On the plus side, Frank was chucked out and we disn't see him for a week or two.
Then there was the used tampon in the kitchen sink, we never did get an explanation of that one!
When she finally left we discovered the state of her room. All those food fights had taken their toll. The place was a toilet, it stank, there were bits of dried noodle stuck to the walls and roof. We also discoverd she's stiffed us on the concil tax.
I was kind of glad to see her go. She left no forwarding address, dissapeared into the night given the amount of cash wshe owed us, but we tracked her down. Last time I saw her I was on her doorstep, handing her the demands from the council and CSA and promising to pass on her new address to all and sundry, including the landlord who was keen to speak to her about a cleaning bill. The look on her face was a picture and made up slightly for the hell she'd put us through.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 8:22, archived)
I lived in canada for 3 months a few years back, and my flatmate there suffered from manic depression. He would get slaughtered most nights out and try and pick a fight with someone.. but one particularly colourful night he brought home some girl he'd pulled in a nightclub and proceeded to have rough and noisy sex with her in the living room. ... it then turns out she was a heroin addict and she really flips, next thing i hear from the relative safety of my bedroom is her smashing up the place, and we're not talking half-heartedly here, proper holes in the living room walls. Then I hear him saying to her "you shouldn't eat those.. you're really pretty and that will spoil your looks", apparently she was eating my dipsposable razors, blades and all! I got out of bed to ask them both to get the watermelon out and she looks me in the eye and starts gobbing all over the floor! Eventually I got her out of the house by suggesting we all go for a coffee somewhere, as soon as we were out of the house she lies down in the middle of the road saying "seeing as you are both my new best mates.. you'd save me from being run over wouldn't you?"..... I went home again at that point :)
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 8:56, archived)
When I was at Uni in Sunderland I shared a house for a year with a local girl. I am quite petite and she well wasn't petite by any stretch of the imagination but used to nick my clothes and then wear them so that they were stretched beyond all use to me. she would just say oh well I'll keep it then shall I? Cow.
Also she not only never did the washing up she used to stash dirty dishes UNDER HER BED! It's not just me is it, that is weird. This reached a crisis point when upon my return from home after Xmas there was literally no cups, plates, cutlery - nothing! Sluttish housemate wasn't in so I went searching. Amazingly there was nothing under her bed but I eventually found everything in the airing cupboard. Ewww! So I did the only sensible thing and went to the pub where she worked and had a big shouting and swearing match there. I believe the best insult I hurled "Was you scummy fat cow, if you ever steal my clothes again I will slap you from here to South Sheilds, now watermelon off and find somewhere else to live!" She did, but not until she had stolen £200 from my other housemates but my clothes and dishes were safe forever more and they shouldn't have been so stupid as to believe she was going to pay the Gas bill so it was fair enough I think! Her name was Naomi.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 9:22, archived)
One of them irons nothing at 3AM - i.e. she runs the iron up and down the ironing board with no clothes on it, and then she forces me to give my pillows to her friends.
The other one scares me every day by looking like a small tramp (I'm also a bit scared that he may have been weeing in my bed)
On Sunday they told me that if I didn't take them to the zoo, they would hate me for ever.
They both be famous users of this board - any guesses as to their identities?
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 9:46, archived)
in my first year at Uni in Stafford, I had a flat mate called bing who was obssessed with Fray Bentos pies.. he often didnt understand why he constantly had the shits.. oh.. and on that point,, he would also burst in on you whilst you were having a shower/bath to take his fray bentos fuelled shits!! ( and yes i did fix the lock many times)
He also liked to walk round the flat just in his underwear and often thought it was funny to flap his knob out on peoples head whilst they were watching tv. He also didnt understand that you actually needed to move pots from under your bed in order to clean them.. including your flat mates pots and pans.
very strange bloke... generous though.. especially if you liked pies.. and his bird had the biggest tits!!! i had the pleasure of seeing her in her underwear many times..
you see, every cloud has a silver lining..
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 9:53, archived)
I lived with the same people all through Uni because they were clean and always paid there bills, but.......
They all talked in baby voices.
They managed to always look at me like I was about to be put down.
They had a photo gallery above the fireplace with pictures of them but no 'me' , beside thank you cards they had sent to each.... other the Forever Friends variety...
I didn't like them, but on my 21st birthday they had a house party in my honour.. I went off somewhere else for the night, to return and find they had all been taking magic mushrooms, one guy (boyfriend) had been caught naked, wanking beside a bin, outside the police station, another was talking to himself in the bathroom. When I got back I decided to get the hell out with a potential love interest, they wouldn't let me leave the house because they were worried about my state of mind...and because the party was for me it was all my fault apparently...they thought I was Satan from that day on.
One was obsessed with trainers and had the same pair in 5 different colours, she would sit and clean them with a toothbrush for hours.
Another was a religious nut who had never had sex and was desperate, the other was anorexic and on anti depressants.
Because I had friends, went out all the time and didn't care if my trainers were scuffed I was immoral and wrong. I still hate them, I hope they have all had some kind of 'middle class too much free time and money to have a personality' psychotic episode, it was on the cards...........
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 12:30, archived)
Firstly, you have the BEST NAME EVER.
Secondly, I don't know about her, but is he Sir Sand Goblin? Everyone seems to love talking about how much he sucks.
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 7:52, archived)
.....I'm not related to one of them am I?
And does the other one support St Albans City FC?
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 17:04, archived)
I once lived with what seemed the perfecly lovely girl before I moved in with her. Then she turned into the single white female!!
She let me and my cat move in and at first it was all great, until her behaviour became erratic and she would cry all the time and ignore me for no reason and steal my clothes. She would also invite her friends around and tell them to ignore me, as if to force me out. Then she bought a puppie to piss my cat off and the dog pissed everywhere and she would not clean anything up so there was piss and poo everywhere.
The last straw came when I went downstairs a few days before christmas and found a note on the fireplace - saying things were not working as she was going through a nutter stage and wanted me to move out. She did not even have the guts to tell me. And she disappeared that weekend so I could not confront her.
My revenge for being kicked out just before christmas day - I moved all my stuff out while she was out. Pissed on her bathroom carpet and put it in the tumble dryer with her clothes and span it around a while. Then took the mat out and put it on the floor a little damp. So by now all her clothes were not so fresh shall we say. Then to cap it all off I wiped myself (you know where) with her face cloth!!! Yes that is seriously grim but she deserved it for treating me like a prisoner in my own home and stealing from me. I have never done any revenge type stuff before - and boy it did feel good and I often wondered about her wearing those clothes and not knowing why they smelt.
My story should be in a revenge is sweet posting really ! Sorry for the ramble !
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 10:11, archived)
Need I say more, but they look less scary when you hang your underwear on them.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 10:42, archived)
A proper computer spod. he had two computers in his room sat next to each other, one for him and one for his girlfriend (pigfriend would be a little more accurate). They would sit in his room, not saying a word to each other but would talk via the internet. Meanwhile he'd be chatting up other (generally fat) women and sending his penis photos around and occasionally managed to convince a few round, I dare say to look at his bizarre collection of porn. I used to wind him up by hiding his porn or other possessions but he would never approach me about it, just leave post it notes around the house. Disturbingly, he send said cock photos to a girl, who happened to be a friend of his ex's, who had made out to be 14 or 15.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 10:19, archived)
in my second year at uni i lived with this bloke who really smelt. he played hockey a lot and the stink from his sweaty shin pads overwhelmed the house, that and his bo. we had to put Police Tape oputside of his room and traffic cones as warning to unsuspecting visitors of the house. In the same house was this fat ginger bloke, who constantly set off the fire alarm when cooking sausages.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 10:38, archived)
the Ones I had at Uni were fine, more or less, but after uni I had some right nutters - We were 4 hetero lads and 1 gay guy with self esteem issues, so we'd be bringing back ladies and making with the (noisy)love, he'd get no loving, and got increasingly bitter to the point where he moved out on Boxing day having phoned a Brazillian bumgay chat line for 2 hours...then we found where he lived and scared the shite out of him for the £50 phone bill!
The other more recent one, was some guy who talked to himself when he first moved in (and spent an hour looking at the house on the first visit - unfortunately my voice "Don't let him move in, he's a nutter" was lost in the wilderness), then disintegrated into hallucinations (He left post-it notes saying shit like "Beware the Spiders") and sent his chocolate and margarine back to the manufacturers stating he saw worms in them, then he started attacking our butter with knives having seen worms in them too! This then led to weird shouting at odd times of the day (which scared the neighbours too "Get THE watermelon OUT OF MY HEAD!!"), weird cooking (Tuna and Orange on Poridge oats)and the final Straw, phoning the police at 3am saying he had seen burglars in the house, which led to him seeing intruders on a weekly basis, and chasing them into our rooms (and scaring the ever loving crap out of us!) We called his mum, who called a quack, who said the best thing to do would be for him to stay with us!! TWUNT! Still the house was sold to another Landlord who raised the rent by £50, so the three of us went our seperate ways with no notice leaving nutter with the house (and full months rent to pay - I should add he lost his job as a courier for chatting to receptionists and scaring the shit out of them) it was worth losing the £150 deposit...almost. I still live in fear of seeing a battered white Peugeot 205 driving to my door (which he used to spend every Saturday inspecting, sitting in, and then inspecting again)! Sorry for the long post, but I kept remembering some the stuff he did
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 11:02, archived)
10yrs ago in Rock Ferry Nr Birkenhead with my Girlfriend at the time Kirsty and my mates Girlfriend Vikki, they were fine to live with but:
The house we lived in had 3 flats and we lived in the middle one,
On the bottom floor lived an old guy who we paid the rent to (he wasn't the owner but he was a mate of his, he'd lived there for 20 odd years) he was a pretty cool guy and he owned a pawnbrokers which came in handy if we where skint cause we'd just go down stairs with a stereo or walkman and he'd lend us money on them for a week or so for no charge, until one time Vikki went down to borrow some cash his door was open and she walked in to find him wanking off to a bestiality movie, the poor guys face was a picture apparently and from then on when we were short we'd send Vikki down again and he'd just give her money cause he was so embarrassed, we lived there 18mths and reckon we took him for at least two grand (we figured he could afford it though as he always seemed to have wads of £50's sat on the mantle piece above his fire).
The bloke on the top floor Brian was a different story all together, from the outside he seemed ok baring in mind he was 27 and we were around 19, he was always coming out with stuff about himself when he was in the army and once even tried to get us to believe he was in the SAS! he went the whole hog on this buying an old army uniform, replica cap badges and stripes etc, we just left him to his own little fantasy world, until the time he decided to break into my flat while I was at work what he didn't think of was the fact Kirsty and Vikki were still in there, this resulted in a vicious cat fight in which both the girls got a few injuries, I got home to find most of the lounge smashed up during the fight i.e. telly etc.
Well I'm not soft now and I wasn't back then but considering this guy 'Used' to be in the SAS he couldn't abseil three floors - then again he didn't have a rope!! he never grassed me up for it even though he was in the hospital for 2mths so I'll give him his dues for that one.
We moved out after that due to hearing gunfire at night, if anyone knows the area then they'll know what i'm on about!
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 10:39, archived)
my room mate at uni was mostly sound but insisted on using his half of the room as a store for his pink canoe. This canoe looked somewhat like a giant cock and so gave me nightmares.. but that wasn't the problem I had with him. It was mainly when he did stop over (having shifted the cock out of the room for a weekend), he had a habit of sleep walking. Sleep walking into the room across the hall and pissing over the bed. This happened a few times.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 10:51, archived)
Back at university I lived next door to this guy who helped to run a university sponsored dance club. For some reason this required him to be off his bonce on E all the time, and to play intensely loud techno through my bedroom wall at all hours. In fact the only time it was quiet was when the fucker was out running the club.
One night Jon returned from clubbing, on, we estimate 8 Es. He came in as normal, but quickly went balistic, and started screaming at Sean (our token stoner flatmate)'s door. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH SARAH YOU C*NT! WHERE IS SARAH? YOU BASTARD, I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU. I mean, in a REALLY unhinged way. He then started to kick Sean's door down. This took about half an hour, all of the time he was screaming that Sean had done something to Sarah. I honestly thought
a) He was going to kill Sean
b) Sean had actually done something to Sarah, and Jon was going to kill Sean
After trembling in my bed for the remainder of the night imagining Jon stalking the flat with a knife, I awoke to a silent flat, Sean's broken door, and the explanation.
"Sarah" was Jon's Sarah Lee chocolate cake, which he had purchased that morning. Sean had got stoned, eaten the whole cake, and then gone out to his girlfriend's....
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 11:05, archived)
i thought he would have been utterly blissed out but his mates said that at some point in the evening he would just flip (hence the 8e estimate). Looking back I think his issues ran a bit deeper than the drugs...
Once he became convinced that the guy he bought dope off was microwaving the blocks of resin to make them expand, and ripping pople off by pretending there was more of it than there really was. So in the dead of night, he broke into the dealer's block of flats at the hall of residence he lived in, and stole EVERY microwave from every kitchen (it was a big block - I think about 20 flats) - not just the dealer's own flat. He had them stacked in his room for a couple of days until he managed to pick the lock of a storage cupboard and he packed them in there. Took the cleaners a few days more to find them.
Come to think of it before he came to university i think he did quite a lot of housebreaking. Once he told me about how he had fallen out with his previous housemate and decided to leave. Feeling a bit aggrieved, he decided the flatmate owed him, and he decided to nick his 24 inch telly. He calmly called a taxi, explained that he'd fallen out with his flatmate, and wanted to leave quietly with his stuff, so would it be ok to cart some bits and pieces with him. The taxi driver was very sympathetic, and actuall went back into the house to help him with the video, stereo etc. and carry it to the cab.
Nutter.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:32, archived)
but I think that may be the funniest thing I've heard all month
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 20:03, archived)
After going drinking at 5pm me and the flatmate went out and made 100s of paper penguins out of those postcards that some pubs giveaway. When we staggered home at 2am, I arranged them so they read 'cranberry' outside my flatmates bedroom door. Childish drunken fun. I have the picture of those paper penguins somewhere.
After a similar night out's drinking we decided to unblock the kitchen sink using Mr Muscle, bleach, nasty 20 year old drain cleaner which is now banned and considered highly toxic and any other chemicals we could find. The result was we ended up making ammonia and he was immune to the effects while I was coughing and choking and thinking "Arrgh! I can't see properly! my eyes my eyes"
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 11:07, archived)
...what the significance of a popular fruit used in juice drinks was *lol*
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 23:59, archived)
Was Lactose intollerant, but insisted in drinking at least 2 pints of milk a day, so woke up coughing and hawking loud enough to wake us... he'd then deposit his phlegm down the tiles and in the bath whilst he showered (occasionally), and as he was so hairy he would shed profusely all over the bathroom and it would stick to his bogey cough-ups... he skipped months paying rent, and brought his HUGE girlfriend home at weekends who squeled like a pig... his post coitus activities involved a long low groan followed by more hacking and snorting.
He left dishes for weeks with mouldy food in, blatently ate our food then denied it, managed to give three women at once(somehow) a dose, then finally did a runner to live with his bloater girlfriend in London, who realising he didnt have a job up there said no.
He withdrew his notice and now resides with his mum again sharing a room with his brother.
He's 28.
And the other day his bank cancelled his switch card and his overdraught cos he didnt change his address with them and we returned his new debit card to them with "not known at his address".... the overdraught was cancelled 4 days after he got paid and as his salary only just put him the the black again he was skint for a month.
Ha.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 11:10, archived)
slag living with him in Edinburgh. She'd get twatted on Diamond White, pop into town, drag some poor deluded git home and nob him, volume set at 11 until the wee hours. Not too uncommon. It all got a bit too much when she picked up a STD, dragged my mate's girlfriend into the bathroom, dropped her knickers, spread her legs and said "It that normal?". Mate's girlfriend said she had more warts than her grandad and Lemmy put together. Munter.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 11:21, archived)
But one of our housemates lay smoking in his
bed in his room, when some burning ash dropped
on the mattress and it caught light.
Not knowing what to do with the impending
inferno, he opened the sash window and bundled
the mattress out, where it landed on the lawn
2 floors below. It continued to burn and this
chap thought it would be a good idea to leap
out of the window and land on the mattress.
He had done this once, ran back inside and up
the stairs to his room and repeated the whole
activity 6 times before the fire brigade and
the police turned up to cart him off.
He later took a can of hair spray with a
lighter and used to stand in the living room and spray the hairspray over the flame at the
door when anyone came into the room.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 11:16, archived)
I have heard so far on the board. "thought it was a good idea to jump out of the window and land on the (flaming) mattress"
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 0:08, archived)
..but the strangest was a chinese guy called felix who barley spoke a word of english (when i asked him his name he replied business management. seriously.) he cooked what can only be described as dog food. he used to regularly piss all over the toilet floor. he used to openly stare at the chests of the three girls i lived with. and the strangest and perhaps scariest thing he did was stalk the corridors at night i used to hear him at all hours of the morning walking along the corridor outside my room - i knew it was him cos i saw him a few times when i went to the toilet during the night and other times i knew it was him cos only me, my girlfriend and him were on that floor and since i stayed in her room every night it kinda narrows it down a bit. definite head case.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 11:33, archived)
Where do I begin. I've lived with a bunch of yanks over the years, but this one took the biscuit
Sharing a house with 2 others and a rotation of people for the for the fourth housemate whilst at university. For around 6 months we had an American dancer over. Harmless girl but none too bright. But not in an unitellegent way, but in a seriously lacking common sense way. Some gems include:
o Taking a bath in a tub covered in bleach spray
o Cleaning the kitchen and turning off all the plugs in the process -- including the oven, fridge and freezer.
o Putting things away from the surfaces: my flatmate was late one morning and didn't have time to make his instant coffee. I found the mug complete with granules and spoon in the fridge that afternoon.
o Wanting to return opened tins of stuff to the supermarket as they might be of use to the homeless or somesuch was the logic there.
I once had a dialogue along these lines:
Me: I'm off down to the supermarket, do you want anything?
Her: It's okay, but can you give me a lift down there?
Me: Well, how'm I going to do that, I'm going on my (push) bike
Her: You don't have a car?
Me: Err, no. (she'd been here for about 4 months by that time)
Her: So that's why I've never seen your car in the drive.
She was a Quaker, and a vegeterian, and used to cook huuuuge tofu/soya/whatever stews and soups that she'd freeze or fill the fridge with, and never eat.
But as a dancer, she hurt one of her feet. I think she tried a bunch of normal medical treatments and eventually moved onto a Chinese herbal thingy that must have cost her a bomb as she'd buy these every week. Anyway, it involved soaking the foot in a warm water bath of these herbs.
Problem was she wouldn't use, say, hot water from the tap or even boil the kettle, but used to boil a saucepan full of water, which, when it was too hot, would then cool with the cunning use of ice cubes, rather than, say, cold water.
There was a story one of the others had about her pulling a raw whole onion out of a boiling stew and taking a bite out of it like an apple after a misunderstanding (you know how you put whole onions in stuff for flavouring? well she didn't) but I wasn't there.
All in all an odd girl. We moved out and she came looking for us shortly after (with the rest of her family) for rent saying we'd stiffed her (which we hadn't). Very very odd.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 11:36, archived)
My flatmate used to dry his pants in the microwave. Not saying this is a bad thing and
can be quite effective (top tip) but not
when you put them in for 60 minutes and
go for a bath.
I came back into a smoke filled house with another flatmate holding a stick with a burning pair of pants on the end of it.
I think it was his only pair of pants aswell.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 11:39, archived)
So not sure if this will work. Some mates from uni were all kinda bad to each other. but in a fun way.

(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 11:49, archived)
Spent a year living with a total psycho called Zoe while at uni. Was moving out of halls after first year and going to get a place with my mate Andy. Zoe (who lived near us in halls) somehow managed to tag herself on to us, and she was to start with an ok girl.. bit "rah" but nice enough.
Our flat was pretty independant in that we each did our own thing, cooked for ourselves and generally socialised with others outside of the flat. All was fine.
Until odd things started happening...
Rock salt put into my sugar.
Dodgy spice shit put into my coffee
etc etc etc
She even tried to contaminate my washing powder with some dodgy fibre stuff.
The bitch had obviously been looking around my room (stuff moved.. and i then started leaving subtle tell tales to see when she'd been in)
The weird thing was.. she was always polite and fine when we talked..
I then heard via Andy that she's been slagging me off to him and others. Trying to make out that I was a weirdo.. when all i wanted was to be left in peace.
I was close to throwing her out of the flat and just trying to cover her share of the rent myself.
Ended up that we didn't say a word to each other for the last 4 months..
You cannot describe the relief I had going home that next summer.
btw, what is it with phychos and bog roll? She could use up a 9 pack in a week! Was she eating the stuff?
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 11:58, archived)
was a sound bloke, but a wee bit nutty some times.
Wanted a new telly, and on his way out to buy one, was stopped in the street by some blokes in a white van selling TVs. Bargain! They carried the beast upstairs, put it in the living room, and left their mobile number as they left in case anything wasn't tip top. Upon switching it on, the tv had colour weirdness in the top corner (which went away after a couple of hours) Mein flattenmaten's response to this was to immediately phone the mobile number and leave a message describing at length how he was going to find them and kill them. Good idea. I arrived home from work to find every single stabby and hitty thing laid out methodically on the sofa. Ok-doaky. Given that these blokes, no doubt lovely, easy going white van driving gangster types, knew exactly where we lived, perhaps not the best idea. Coupled with the fact it was a one bedroomed flat (he kipped on the living room floor) in which these chaps knew their way around, it was fairly safe to say to say that any late night killing visits would be to the bedroom. My bedroom.
Yes. I slept very well for a week after that.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 12:00, archived)
and as I'm a computing student I got a phone line fitted for internet access. This made me the only person in the flat with access to the net so when people wanted on the net I'd let them.
This was a bad idea with one flat mate in particular. This guy only went to class for the first month or so and then just sat around the flat all day until finally moving out at Christmas. During the day he kept himself "occupied" with a rather large, hardcore, (we're talking dwarves here,) porn collection which he would leave liberally scattered around the kitchen/lounge area.
Well one day he asked if he coud use the net while I was at college so I said yes as long as I didn't let anyone else in while I was out.
When I got back my mouse and keyboard were very sticky and there was "condensed milk" everywhere. It had to be condensed milk because I had to lift the mouse and keyboard to bin them and then clean my desk and to be honest I don't want to consider what else it could have been.
Another guy is a furry. Over the summer when I was backing up my machine I found a folder full of hardcore furry porn. Lovely.
Then there was the guy who ate nothing but pizza for 6 months, at which point he changed to boiled pasta with ketchup. There was one incident when he was drunk that he tried to climb out his bedroom window, along the exterior window sills and in the kitchen window. We lived four floors up. This guy also never showered. Ever.
Then there was the guy who kept bringing his girlfriend back. I could never look at her and keep a strange face so I'm sure she thinks I'm some sort of grinning imbecile.
At one point last year my lovely flatmates thought it would be clever to play darts with the kitchen knives. MY kitchen knives. Suffice to say the handles were broken afterwards.
My microwave also got used to cook CD's and eggs at one point, leaving me to clean it.
My food also kept getting eaten all the time. Don't know who by but it would just vanish. I did eventually discover that the reason I was unable to keep eggs in the fridge for more than a few hours is that they would be thrown out the window at passing neds.
I fecking hated the halls.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 12:23, archived)
...of student halls. i reckon there's definitely an art to it. either you can cope or you can't get out quick enough. the best strategy is to nail down all valuables and leave nothing lying around in public areas worth more than a pint of milk.
one of my mates from home used to complain that his flatmates used to eat his steaks. i mean christ - i'd eat steak if i found it in the fridge! when i was at college i survived on a diet of basmati rice (classy, see) and lea & perrins sauce. tabasco too if i was feeling exotic.
no particularly horrific flatmate stories though. although a friend of mine did get home one day to find that his house'mates' had broken into his room and shat on the only copy of his handwritten dissertation. nice.
needless to say, he moved out and the room was sealed up forever!
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:20, archived)
On the first night of uni I made friends with a top guy who had the luxury of a double room to himself (or so we thought). After about a week we went into his room to find a wierd looking guy sittng on the empty bed. After politely enquiring who monkeys he was, it turned out that it was my mate's room mate, the guy who quitely came in in the early hours of every morning while he was asleep and left before he woke up. The reason we didnt know anyone else lived there was because he had no stuff.. literally no stuff! except for a few clothes and packets of crisps that he kept in his (locked) cupboard.
When he was actually in the room, all he would do is sit on his bed and stare at the rest of us. Nobody was allowed near his cupboard and he would eye you suspiciously while he pulled out a packet of wotsits or quavers and quickly lock it again. Any attempt to place yourself near the cupboard would result in him jumping off the bed to protect the contents with a steely look in his eye, once the danger had passed he would resume his staring duties.
Although the guy never actaully did anything, he scared the hell out of us, until one day he left and never came back (or so we thought......)
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 12:28, archived)
I lived with a weirdo in my first year at warwick ....
Top annoyances :
Smelt , v bad .. would empty the common room just by entering it.
His room had nothing in it , at all - he tried to look cool by saying this was the 'minimalist' look.
Always wore the same leather (!) trousers and reservoir dogs T-shirt... I mean why ?
Would sit outside of all the girls rooms in our halls singing love songs to them while they told him to get lost.
Got thrown out of his house in the second year by spiking a housemate's drink with acid ( who was a very straight laced christian type ).
Got thrown out of halls in his final year by cooking hash cakes and giving one to a law student without telling him what it was - does this guy just not learn!!
Always went on and on about doing acid in an effort to look cool - which always failed.
Did a Maths degree and would go on and on about Maths subjects in a 'wacky' way - loser.
Reckoned he was the brightest person in his year but left with a 2:2.
About 2 Months after I finsihed Uni , he got my number from a mutual 'friend' and called me up. He said he was coming down to stay for a bit and wondered if he could stop over at mine. Naturally , I hung up on him and kept a low profile for the next few weeks to avoid meeting him - easy enough since you could smell him coming from a mile off.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 12:58, archived)
In my first year at uni in Newcastle I had a flat mate called Stuart. He was a zeppelin. He came in on the first day carrying his game scenery for his war hammer games and when invited to the pub he stated that he didnt drink. For the next few months he never washed or shaved and ended up looking like an ugly worzel gummidge. he stank, wore awful slippers and taped radio 4 and listened to it over and over again every night whilst painting his daft war games gargoyles or whatever the watermelon they were. he was ignorant all the time and we really made an effort for the first few weeks. we then got pissed off and abused his food, appearance and his stench. he only wore one glove when it was cold cos he left the other back home and was too tight to buy another pair. i had an old telly with a dial to change channels where the signal goes black and white if u dont tune it in correctly... we were watching Schindlers list this one time and he took ten minutes trying to get the picture into colour (nob). he left uni in the january because he got mugged by some pikey 11 year old scallies on his way back from war games night in town (fucking hilarious).
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 12:47, archived)
...I am NEVER moving to the UK now. I knew you were a strange lot and I love your sense of the absurd, but cripes there seem to be to many nutters floating about to feel safe. I have been lucky enough NEVER to have had a roommate (until I got married, but that's another thread...ahem). Guess I'll stay put in Germany as the Germans are all arschlochs but at least they are mostly wimpy and back down when confronted...
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 12:56, archived)
when living with my brother a couple of years ago, his kiwi mate (plus girlfriend) had been kicked out and needed a place to stay (the reason he was kicked out was for falling through the ceiling of his previous place after drunken attic mayhem: a telling sign we failed to take note of)
on his first night, i happily lent him my keys while i went to work at my bar. i told him that my brother was nowhere near, and so corrin MUST stay in that night. needless to say. he went out, and left me on my doorstep in the freezing cold for four hours in the middle of brixton.
he and his girlfriend were suitably noisy when it came to anything carnal, so we could never understand why he left loads of filthy porn all over the flat. also, he would do his best to be as naked as possible for most of the day.
after his girlfriend disappeared (never to be seen again), he took to ripping our shower head off the wall: 'i thought it was meant to do that!', and then lighting cigarettes on the stove, without EVER turning it off. needless to say, he would leave the flat, with that hob going for anyhting up to a day before any of us noticed. thankfully he moved out after finally finding a place of his own, but would still return at four or five in the morning with screams of 'i've got a chicken!' (he would actually have a chicken in a bag), or claims that he just met a real live eskimo on the street with a wheelie bin full of beers. he's fucking nuts. i love him.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:08, archived)
I spent 6 months in a shared house with a complete loon:
You know that cup or pot that most people use to keep their toothbrushes in, just somewhere to keep the brushes and the paste together. Well I come home one day and notice all the brushes and the paste on the side and the cup on a shelf? A bit odd I thought, took the pot down only to find it with filled with white material and from the smell of it bleach! Looking again inside the pot I realised what was in it, yes she's had one of those monthly accidents and decided the best way to clean it was to use 'that' cup and some bleach.
I never left my toothbrush out again.
To continue her trend of ‘interesting ways to clean things’ when the washing machine broke she took all her clothes, put them in the bath, bleached them (maybe she got a discount bulk purchase) and then put them all into a black bin bag. Odd enough as that was she then left them inside that black bag in her wardrobe for about 2 months. The smell of rotting cloth was absolutely disgusting, it's not like she didn't notice either (other than us almost beating her to death when she wouldn't do anything about them) she would spray about a can of air freshener into the room before she would go in it.
That also explains why sometimes you would wake up in the middle of the night and find her asleep next to you, the smell got that bad.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:20, archived)
A few years ago I had the misfortune to share a rather run down but spacious flat in Edinburgh. Upon moving in I noticed on closer inspection that the place had also been somewhat neglected on the cleaning front.... whilst sticking to the kitchen floor I tried to introduce the idea of chore sharing on a weekly rota which was agressively refused by a grumpy and obtuse flatmate who responded "we clean the kitchen floor every 6 months with a metal scouring pad - thats all it needs and I'm not doing any more". In the corner of the kitchen lay at least 2 years worth of newspapers and beer bottles for recycling and guess what - he was the only person in the flat to have a car.....which he surprisingly refused to use for such a demeaning errand...
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:29, archived)
was a right perv. He told us in the pub one day about the antics he used to get up to:
He would lie on his bed with his legs legs up against the wall, wank, and try to catch it in his mouth. His bedroom was the front lower room, the lounge in any other house. He used to wank behind the net curtains as people were walking passed him feet away in the street, cos it turned him on as they couldn't see him.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 13:43, archived)
I am insanely jealous of all you brits who get to listen to the radio show. You should make it an MP3 or something and put it in the newsletter.
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 8:41, archived)
you know. click the link on the front page.
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 11:17, archived)
I had a housemate, Dave, about 10 years ago who used to go out at exactly 7am every morning without fail and return at exactly 11pm every evening. When at home he would go straight to his room and not leave it until going out the next day. I don't know where he went but we knew he wasn't working. If we knocked on his door he'd ignore us. We didn't mind, he paid his rent, (left on the kitchen table without speaking to anyone).
After a couple of months or so a horrendous smell began emanating from his room. We never saw him to be able to confront him and one afternoon we drunkenly decided that he had a body in there and the correct course of action was to break down his door. In the end this wasn't necessary because we were able to pick the lock on his door.
What we found inside was the entire floor covered with rubbish literally waist deep with a clearing so the door could open. There were milk bottles filled with piss on every flat surface and cardboard boxes containing shit piled high in the corners of the room.
On top of all this mess we saw his diary. I'm not proud of reading it but he had become a non-person in my eyes and, besides, I really wanted to know where he went in the day. Inside was stories he'd written, about rape fantasies with him as the rapist. With this information we did the only thing that a reasonable person could do - we hounded him out of the house.
In retrospect I can see that this was a person with a mental illness but at the time we just wanted to get shut of the nutter. I still feel guilty when whenever I hear about a rape on the news that it might have been our Dave.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 14:01, archived)
but maybe one of it's outer rings.
A couple up at swansea university, they would always eat boiled cabbage, drink cold coffee and sit watching readers wives videos together (on different seats)... Only when i went to move out did i find the huge porno stash of theres underneath the sofa.
But it was the gimp mask they brought out from time to time that scared me a little.
But in hindsight, i think they just needed there own place.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 14:15, archived)
i live in swansea, i really hope they aren't people i know...
i have a bad feeling
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 16:05, archived)
I have to get this one off my chest, even after all these years.
My mates and I were renting a house together, post graduation, but someone dropped out. We were faced with sharing the extra cost of the empty room or getting someone else in, and cash was tight. When this bloke turned up at the door my mate said "no way, just look at him" but I said "1 - don't be so judgemental and 2 - think of the money situation", so we ended up sharing with him.
The blokes room stank cos he never washed his feet/socks, and he used to pick black bits out from between his toes and flick them out the window which was behind the sofa. Especially when anyone came to visit. His girlfriend was an alcoholic and they had the occasional punch up in the wee small hours. His membership of the university was revoked for throwing a bottle into the crowd at an open air gig; it smashed on someone's head. When our female housemate used the toilet while we were in the room below, he would call the room to hush so that he could hear the tinkling. This is rather the tip of the iceberg, I'm afraid; the list goes on and on.
The icing on the cake was when he was watching a film, blind pissed. During a scene where someone got shot in the head, he starting getting a bit frantic about how such films belittle the mental trauma resulting from having killed someone. In response to "how would you know?", he told us the tale of his days in the drugs trade when he'd been asked to go along on a big deal. Apparently it was customary to have a mob waiting in the wings in case things got out of hand, and they'd all been given guns because they knew other mob had them. Things did get out of hand and some people ended up getting killed, one of them by him, hence the mental trauma.
To this day I'm in two minds about the veracity of the tale - he may have been messed with our heads, but if you knew the bloke you wouldn't be sure.
Sorry about the length, please be gentle.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 14:51, archived)
When I was at Uni I used to share a house with a girl who constantly tried to commit suicide. Pills, hanging from the light fittings etc. She never really meant it.
It was worrying at first but it's amazing how quickly my heart hardened.
One day I got up for an early lecture and went into the bathroom and the shower curtain was pulled round the bath, there were candles all over the place and a stereo on the floor. Behind the curtain was the girl in her swimming costume and asleep in a bathfull of water - not drowned. I drew back the curtain and went and had a fag in the kitchen.
Sometime later she berated me in a pub when I was with all of my mates for not being more concerned and I couldn't have cared less.
As the house was owned by the uni accomodation I got them to reimburse all of my deposit plus extra as I was in my final year and shouldn't have had to put up with this sort of shit.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 15:01, archived)
i love the way she put her swimming cossie on before jumping in the bath. like she didn't want to be found before she popped her clogs... of course she wanted to be found or she wouldn't be wearing the swimmers!
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 15:08, archived)
Now that I come to think of it I have shared flats with horrible people.
One lad who was supposed to be my mate used to put eggs up his girlfriend's frou-frou and then put them back in the fridge.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 15:14, archived)
and all the posts on this thread have really put me off.
but the alternative is to become the subject of a post (copies of the guardian flatshare under the door last week - subtle!).
i guess the search goes on.
here's a tricky one though... i've currently got two options: (1) with 3 mates in a decent flat with all mod cons including great porn; or (2) with excellently fit fashion bird in her own flat with all mod cons including remote possibility of maybe something more than 'just friendship'.
which one do i go for?
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 15:23, archived)
GIRLS + BOYS DON'T MIX in a house.
If you move in with your girlfriend - you WILL regret it. Or you WILL split up. Whichever comes sooner.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 16:04, archived)
...she fully rips the piss out of anyone he brings into the house now.
Plus she leaves bin bags piled up outside on the balcony... Mmmm flies
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 0:17, archived)
will go with the mates option. off to check the gaff out this eve. it's in shepherd's bush - woo!
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 9:56, archived)
Move in with the bird for christ's sake! Or if you don't, pass her details on to me.
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 15:32, archived)
He put his spoons in the fork drawer. EVERY FUCKING TIME. It was the low point of my life.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 15:10, archived)
One example:
I heard screaming. As I got to the bottom of the stairs I could see said house mate clutching a tiny card that had been sent to him, shaking and screaming at me, "I've just won £50,000". I didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.
I found him an hour later argueing with someone on the phone: "No, you don't understand, I'm a winner"
Actually maybe I was the housemate from hell seeing as I left there after a year not knowing one of their names.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 15:30, archived)
Well, all I can say is, I gave as good as I good to most of my housemates over the years, leaving me with a long string of people whose desire never to live with me again is matched only by my desire never to live with them.
Over the years I've:
- Had particularly noisy sex with my (now ex-)girlfriend (though in my defence, there's only so many times you can say "shut up" before it spoils the mood).
- Left dirty plates/cutlery/half-empty pot noodles in the living room.
- Woken everyone up by getting up early for work.
- Invited various people round for much stoner-related smoking, thus making an entire house of non-smokers stink of ganj.
- Had a go at a particularly vacuuous housemate who would state the obvious (a personal pet hate) then wonder why I get mildly annoyed with them. I stopped after her boyfriend threated to beat the cack out of me.
All in retaliation for:
- Talking through out the entire 1st 15 minutes of 'Lost Boys', until I just got up and left.
- Watching T.V. and playing Halo until all hours of the morning when I had to be up for work the following day, not to mention crawling in drunk at rediculous times in the morning.
- Argueing. Non-stop. And the same one is almost always wrong, or has misunderstood, or hasn't got her own way about something...and now they're married (though God help me if they ever read this).
- A guy who, when showing me how to play a warhammer game for the 1st time, still felt a need to cheat in order to win (something I only realised much later).
- Invited various people round for stoner-related smoking, without inviting me.
Yeah, I was a watermelon to live with, but so were they. I feel justified.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 15:50, archived)
"Bo".
Never liked the guy. Ever. Always asked far too many annoying, invasive questions about everything for no reason. I'm more the quiet "I don't like you, so I'm not going to call you a cranberry but I'll happily ignore you" type and he wouldn't let me.
We were already jokingly questioning his sanity when he decided to drop out of 2nd year Physics at uni and, while we were all in our 3rd year, do some more A-Levels at a local community college. He gradually became more and more odd, and began leaving plastic carrier bags full of water all over the house. All accusations of his various misdemeanours were met with complete denial and a "I'm-so-innocent-please-punch-me-very-hard" face. Then he started staying up all night doing various mentalcase things, like ringing directory enquiries 40 times for no apparent reason and trying to get us all to lie to the police and say his phone had been stolen because he thought he wasn't insured for its newly-broken screen. Finally while I was working on a piece of coursework (due in that day, natch) he smashed up a load of plates in the kitchen and went out, so I bolted the fucker out. He showed me the error of my ways by punching through the glass of the door and trying to open the yale lock thingy (a sensible course of action if you've just worked out the door is bolted, obviously). He cut his arm to shreds and got taken away in an ambulance. At the hospital he allegedly threatening staff, which ended in him being put in a mental ward. He spent his time there almost being killed by large, muscular nutcases he thought it would be funny to wind up. A week later his father (with very strong traditional indian values, you should have seen his mother cowering as his father explained that the doctors didn't know what they were talking about and threatening legal action). Anyway, his rich father's lawyers saw him out of hospital and back into our house (Doctors: go home and rest for a week Him: back after the fucking weekend). The medication he'd been prescribed for whatever was going on in his brain was promptly ignored, because his father knew a better one (boiling up various disgusting smelling things and drinking the resulting liquid). Then after an argument about how breakable double glazing was he took it upon himself to break one of the recently redone double glazed back windows when everyone had gone to bed. His bedroom was a work of art, with various demented scrawlings on the wall, including a very confused swastika that didn't know if it was coming or going. He paid to fix the front door. He denied all knowledge of the back window despite him borrowing a hammer and screwdriver about the same size as the hole mere minutes before it happened, so we all ended up paying for that.
Then there was Henry, who despite being vaguely posh and having been to Repton, spent all of his time stealing things and skateboarding, and none of it ever cleaning his stinking pit of a room. Always in crippling debt, never paid for the Sky nor ADSL to this day.
The other two in the house with me were great. Henry was fine as long as we weren't thinking about money or general cleanliness. I'm not the cleanest tidiest person in the world to this day, but I couldn't even approach Henry's standards of ming.
Then again, reading the other posts in this thread, it looks like I got away luckily, I'd have probably gone mad myself if some of the piss and shit things had happened in our house.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 16:00, archived)
which henry was this? i went to repton too - might be able to give u some background - when did he leace?
(, Sat 22 Nov 2003, 2:09, archived)
Flatmate #1 had been evicted from his squalid bedsit due to a plague of black flies "mysteriously" appearing in the kitchen area as it was that unhygenic. He couldn't cook and lived off take-out or the charity of friends. His bedroom floor was covered in a mixture of pizza boxes, fag ends, beer cans, half drunk cups of coffee, and clothes. When he ran out of clean clothes he simply bought more. He *seemed* quite trustworthy (despite being gross) but it turned out later he'd been taking money from me and the other guy and not paying any of the bills - hence being able to afford all the clothes.
He also wet the bed, invited a one-legged girl he'd met on the internet round and sat in his pants with her in the living room when his girlfriend was there, and left his genital wart medication in the bathroom.
Flatmate #2 was his South African work colleague, and was a complete bigot. Me being the only female in the flat, he'd scream and shout at me if he had to do any chores, saying 'if my Father could see me now he'd be so ashamed!'. He also used to complement me - 'you look so beautiful... standing by the cooker'. Grrrr.
Oh happy days
3 months after I moved out, I got taken to court for non-payment of council tax as flatmate #1 had filled out the forms with my details!
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 16:07, archived)
who was the most un-hygenic person I have ever happened across.
Every morning he would go into the bathroom for a piss only, then go off to work. He didn't own a toothbrush or any toiletries, I never saw or heard him have any kind of wash/shower/bath in the year that I lived with him.
His room was disgusting! It stank so bad that the rest of the house-mates had to insist that he kept his door closed at all times.
I once made the mistake of going into his room to look for dirty cups when I was doing the washing up. The smell was so bad that I retched and then actually threw up on his bed. I couldn't stay in his room to clean it as the smell was so bad, but he never mentioned the sick!
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 16:07, archived)
My flatmates heard me chundering one night, and told me about it in the morning. I searched my room that day, but couldn't find my puke anywhere. So I assumed that they had heard someone else. About a week later, I made my bed and found were I had been sick.
(, Thu 20 Nov 2003, 18:42, archived)
Nervy times...
Actually, all four of the occupants at my Huddersfield student house were flatmates from hell - myself included.
- I was the only person in the house who had a PC, so people would break into my room (credit card the door) to use it. The only reason I knew is that I'd see the light on in my room when I came home.
- We'd argue like five year olds over the phone bill, right down to the last quid. We'd have the yellow pages out and phone the operator to find out what a particular area code was. A conversation like the following would then ensue:
Bob - 01999, that's Cirencester
Everyone - I don't know anyone in Cirencester.
Bob - Well who's going to pay the 7p then?
*pause for thought*
Dan - Tom, where was that computer company you phoned three months ago. Wasn't that in Cirencester.
Tom - Ummmmm.
Everyone - you lying cranberry! (but really quite aggressively)
- Tom was one of those people who tries to act cool and PC in any situation. If we ever did anything nasty to him, his retort would always begin "hey, guys" and end something like "I'd really rather you didn't crap in my bed again". Before storming off to his room.
- One member of the household had a home-made porn video amongst his gigantic video collection. Better still, it co-starred a fellow resident of last year's halls of residence. To throw his housemates off of the scent, he'd labelled it 'Lemmings'. While the pornmeister was out, the others settled down to watch a movie and were intrigued by the 'Lemmings' thing. So, they watched the whole thing. Lemming jokes ensued for the rest of the year!
I hope that one of others reads this (if anyone would be here, I'd guess that 'Bob' would). It would be nice to have a chuckle about it now.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 16:37, archived)
Had a flatmate named Adam who was so clueless he didn't know how to use a microwave- his first attempt was heating up a can of dinty moore stew- y'know the ones with the tin lid you peel back and remove before you nuke 'em... Well, he didn't. And after the dang thing exploded in the oven and made a huuuuge mess, he screamed "HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!?!?!?" That's when I showed him the plastic lid of the can, which has three simple one-sentence instuctions, with diagrams- Step one being "Pull back the metal lid and discard."...
Anyway, he announced that he wasn't going to stay the summer and was moving out- I pointed out the at the lease was for a year, and would he be leaving the last three months of rent with me or finding a sub-leasee? He grumbled and accused me of tricking him into signing a the lease without making clear that "One Year" means "twelve months" and not "Whenever suits Adam".
So that night at the pub he meets up with a guy who's new in town and needs a place for a few months. Adam tells him he can have his room and seals the deal. His name was Lin.
Lin was a moody, violent schizophrenic with a vicious dog who was dicharged from the US army after serving time in Leavenworth for dealing large amounts of Hash. The three months were frightening and interesting, mostly frightening. At the end of the Lease, I started pushing Lin to start moving his stuff out of the house, as I had to return up north the day after the lease was gone, and I wanted a day to clean out and get my deposit back. He moved a lot of his stuff out, but there was a large pile in his room on the last day- he promised to come back that night and get the last load with a friend who had a truck. I cleaned every room in the house except his. I never saw him, so I locked up, shut off the water and power, and returned home- figureing Lin would be back the next day to get his stuff. I got a call from the Realator THREE days later saying that she had stopped by every day and that Lin was still living there! She had a policeman go around and get him to leave. When she went in the house, his bed was brought back into MY room, his dog had crapped in Chris's room a few times, there was take-away boxes strewn on the floor of the kitchen along with crumpled beer cans, and THREE days worth of human waste stacked in the toilet, since he couldn't flush it with the water off. I didn't get my deposit back.
About a year later, one of my friends who had met Lin maybe three times said Lin came up to him at a club and tried to reminisce about times they didn't share, and how great pals they were... then it came out- Lin was searching for character witnesses to speak on his behalf at his upcoming Child Molestation court trial in a few days- His Ex-wife had brought charges against him over their DAUGHTER! Dave gave him a fake phone number and stayed outta sight for two weeks!
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 16:39, archived)
so that's where you got it from.
in my first year at university there was a desperately unhappy lad called james who was from essex and wasn't at all comfortable with being up north. or living with people that weren't his mother. we rented a nice, big tv for the communal area. james didn't contribute, because "i don't watch telly". but when he couldn't get to watch what he wanted (six of us were watching one channel; he wanted to watch another) he actually threw a mug of tea at the TV, cracking the screen. thank goodness for insurance, is all i can say. he also pissed in the shower, by his own confession. poor lad, we had a party with the girls from the flat upstairs, and he told them that he could that they weren't from essex, as they weren't good-looking.
last i heard of him he was threatening people with a knife at the orange grove pub in fallowfield, having been thrown out of his flat for non-payment of rent.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 16:43, archived)
till the fuckers made it student only.
Still theres always Bar XS (does a good comedy night on Tuesdays btw).
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 15:40, archived)
Several years ago, I attended a science fiction convention. (Yeah, isn't there another thread for "sad confessions" - anyway...)
Booking late as usual, all my mates already had sharers, so I unwisely checked the "find me a roommate" box on a hotel booking form. They had boxes for "smoking/non-smoking", "male/female", etc. but they didn't have the ones that really mattered: "washing/non-washing" and "snoring/non-snoring".
This guy apparently had not bathed for a week, and carried this on for the whole week we shared this room. That was pretty bad, but the snoring was just out of this world.
I had brought earplugs with me (knowing that this was a risk), but they were ineffective to say the least. It was impossible to tune him out because he would not breathe for over a minute - I know this because I was counting through clenched teeth for most of the first night - then snore really loud, really fast, like a warthog panting, for another minute. Then repeat. Then repeat. Then REPEAT. Then smash smash smash kill suffocate... well, I thought about it.
The only cure was to stay up till 5am getting completely wasted and rely on alcoholic exhaustion to ensure a modicum of slumber.
(Actually, it was so unbelievable, that I actually recorded a .wav file with my PDA. It must be kicking around on an archive disk somewhere - I'll post it if I can find it.)
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 16:58, archived)
one of those people who would go to a rave and complain about the noise..... fat smelly people who snore do go to sci-fi conventions.. so dont moan (from a sci-fi hater (due to an old housemate))
(, Fri 21 Nov 2003, 18:17, archived)
actually happen to me, but a mate of mine used to share a flat with the members of a fairly well-known early industrial band. One night he was sitting in his room when he heard a noise on the stairs and one of his flatmates shouting "Pete, could you come out here a minute, please?" He opened his door to find his flatmates in combat jackets a
