For ages
I couldn't figure out why the mirror in the bathroom was always dirty. It had strange little marks all over it, like a fine spray of, err, something.

That was until I discovered my flatmate squeezing her zits and deposting the zit juice on the mirror.

Yuk!
(Save Us All !!!, Thu 5 Mar 2009, 12:49, Reply)

My ex's
housemate/co owner was a bit of a bint.
In my first year postgrad I would often sleep in a bit and get to work late morning (now I am second year I am conscientious and get into work early and play on the net instead). This of course meant that I would be in bed past 'normal' hours.
My girlfriend at the time did proper person working hours and so would leave early.
One day her housemate had a day off work.
I didn't get out of bed until after she'd left the house to do whatever it is that dippy bint's do on their day off.

Bearing in mind that the bedroom door had been closed (as usual) and hiding my sweaty manflaps and I'd been making no noise, the bugger didn't know I was there until she saw my car outside on her way out.

"Tweeb-bird, I don't mind Tweeb staying over but I do mind when he's still in bed in mornings particularly if I have the day off." Texteth she to mine lady.

It's not like we didn't get on, and I hadn't disturbed her. Plus it wasn't exclusively her house.
Silly cow.

(I wonder if I've posted this tale of woe early enough to get on 'best'... ?)
(tweebianmonkey Should be known as Widget, Thu 5 Mar 2009, 12:45, Reply)

Just this morning...
Having spent a highly enjoyable snooze in the girlfriends bed as she had buggered of early for a job interview I reluctantly drag myself out of bed.

Quick shower and a shave I am ready to take on the world! The world, however, has different ideas.

One of the aforementioned girlfriends flatmates has deadbolted the door and I am locked in (honestly! What if there had been a fire???). After a short time hunting for a spare key (no luck) I consider my options. This brings me to the kitchen. The flat is an old council estate with a walkway running past the kitchen and front door. After a quick investigate I find that one of the windows opens fully and I can escape!

I fashion a loop of Macguyver-esque string so I can pull the latch on the window closed after my escape. I climb out and breathe the sweet, fresh air of freedom, turn around and pull the window shut. Success! The latch clicks into place and the house is once again secure. Eager to get going I turn around and walk to work with a spring in my step...

...and spring straight into the warm, welcoming arms of the wonderful, ever vigilant metropolitan police force. Arse.

Length - about half an hour of providing work, home and personal details, contact number to girlfriend, verifying my identity, emptying my bag to prove that 'no, you probably wouldn't want to steal cycling gear that smells THAT bad' and them promising to return when girlfriend + flatmates are in to ensure that I am who I am and that nothing has been stolen.

And that is the story of how I burgled my girlfriends flatmates.
(Squash, Thu 5 Mar 2009, 11:20, 8 replies)

Unhappy Wee Thing...

I have been both the giver and receiver of housemate-weirdness.

When I first moved out and into Uni halls, I knew I wouldn’t be in the greatest flat – I’d been housed off campus due to late UCAS decisions and suspected I might be with the less usual kind of students. Well, I was right.

The first night, only one of the four others turned up – another girl of my age who was utterly great – we spent the first night getting trashed and having fun (she had brought wine and one saucepan and not a lot else so this may say something about her). I thought perhaps I’d been mistaken. But silly me, I know I’m always right.

The next day a guy in his late twenties turned up with girlfriend in tow- who he would mostly be visiting in his real life at home and consequently we barely saw him. The other was a guy about 5 years older than us and seemed great at first. Then he became a bit reclusive and only left his room to cook enormous meals in the middle of the night. After which he would return to his room to eat his midnight-fry-ups and put the stereo on full blast to sing along to Coldplay. He was also huge and a bit scary and as it turns out, spiteful.

Finally that leaves us with the 40 year old Turkish man:-

Oo-fuck Tossers.

That’s phonetically spelled. Bless him, he was lovely really, but it was rather too much to take for two naïve, 18 year old girls in their first nest-leaving experience and we fled the flat (and in her case the uni).

Then it was my turn to get a bit (well, a lot actually) melancholic and I became the weird reclusive housemate – oh how the worm turns! During the rest of first year (re-housed) I had a sink in my new room. I used to wee in it. I didn’t really eat, so pooing or venturing into the kitchen were rare horrors for me to face. I did actually go to my lectures and have some functioning friends – I just found the shared living thing totally overwhelming I suppose. Second year wasn’t much better and I had hastily moved in with three boys who seemed pretty cool. They were utterly filthy. One Physics and two engineering students and between them they still didn’t understand that PIECES OF PASTA ARE TOO BIG FOR THE KITCHEN PLUGHOLE! Gaaah!

Due to the skanky, studenty nature of this private rental, I was no longer blessed with a bedroom-wee-sink. I used to do it in a glass and chuck it out my bedroom window Victorian-style into the alleyway behind the house (maybe this explains all pissy alleyways and the tramps aren’t really to blame at all?!). Oh dear. I can’t really believe I engaged in this kind of behaviour without being sectioned.

Glad to announce I’m all better now and (almost) never wee in places I shouldn’t.
(Sinister Carp doesn't mind the gap, Thu 5 Mar 2009, 9:50, 3 replies)

My great house
I shared a huose right, with these three Page Three Models and they all had boyfriends who were drug dealers who were always impressed that i could do 50 grammes in an hour and one day I totally beat them up and then chatted up the girls despite my aspergers which the internet said I had, and they all sucked me off except that they didn't because that was their first mistake and I went off and wanked off my uncle instead.

Sorry about length.

Cheers.
( Amorous Badger : One of our most popular models., Thu 5 Mar 2009, 7:50, 10 replies)

Talking of sex-related lies
I was lying in bed one day and I must have started napping because my flatmate walked in and saw me asleep and she must have seen my stiffy, because she couldn't help herself - she started wanking me off and then she sat on top of it and started riding me. I woke up and was like "what the fuck" but she took off her top showing me her DD tits and I was like "wow, whatever", and she had three orgasms.

That was my best sex-related lie. Get it? Because I was lying down! And then had sex!

Apologies for length
(__, Thu 5 Mar 2009, 7:32, 3 replies)

she's fucking my neighbour ...
back in the day when i was a drug addled student, i had the dubious pleasure of sharing a house with Helen.

Now it may have been that Helen had a lovely set of DDs (of which I have always been partial) and it may have been that she had lovely dark hair and eyes (of which I have always been partial) that lead me to choose her over all other prospective housemates, but I am still going to say it was a financial arrangement pure and simple.

Helen was about to start her first year of uni and had moved down from the country to do so. Helen, being a nubile 17 year old fresh out of high school also had an array of nubile 17 year old friends who would regularly visit and sleep over, often sharing a bed. To my feverish 19 year old brain this seemed like a SURE THING.

One night when climbing through the window (which we used as a front door) I saw that Helen had a group of friends over, chief amongst them being Laurie, another dark haired, dark eyed beauty with tangled mane of dreadlocks and a hungry look in her eye. We were instantly interested in each other and spent the next few weeks flirting and finding excuses to be the last ones to go to leave the pub/go to bed/go for a walk etc

When all of the psuedo foreplay was exhausted we eventually tumbled into bed together and got down to the real foreplay and more. Laurie was a screamer and ultra enthusiastic. She was also the first girl I had ever met who swallowed. In short, a dirty, dirty girl. I suppose I should have listened to the alarm bells when she jokingly said in response to my comments about her apparent experience 'oh yeah, i'm like the local bike - jump on and have a ride *giggle*' but I was in balls deep by then and the blood had left my thinking head.

Occasionally, Laurie would spend the night in Helen's bed, which was fine with me. I mean, they close friends and friendships need to be nurtured if they are to survive right? Wrong. Turns out Helen and Laurie would make sweet lady lovin' on a regular basis and I was the meat on the side. Still, was okay by me as I was getting it regular like.

At this point it is probably time to bring in John our older, hairier neighbour who lived in the adjoining place and with whom I shared a common bedroom wall. John and I regularly hung out, drank beer, smoked pot, played guitar, all the worthwhile things in life. John had also been banging one of Helen's other friends Jess who, after pretty much sitting on his cock within hours of meeting him, had grown bored and hungry as only a freshly awakened 17 year old sex kitten can be. John casually commented about Laurie's vocal tendencies in the bedroom one day, which I took as friendly banter but should have realised was actually a fierce desire to pluck her freshly ripened peach. I thought no more of it until later ...

Two important things happened after this point. The first continues to haunt me til this day. I came home one night to find Laurie and Helen in my bedroom with Helen laying face down and topless on my bed. Laurie who was sitting on my bed slowly rubbing her back looked at me and asked 'do you mind if Helen sleeps in with us tonight?'. My friends, if ever you are offered a threesome, please, just say yes. Do not do what I did and say 'Um well I would prefer if she didn't'. I think at the time I was worried about sleeping with my housemate and that it would fuck up the situation. Little did I know.

Helen dutifully gathered her ample bosom and left the room and a little later Laurie and I got down to it, so I suppose the night was not a total loss (though who am I fucking kidding right?). To cut a long story short, Laurie put the hard word on me about whether we were an item, I said yes, later noticed she was flirting like crazy with neighbour John and put the hard word on her and accused her of cheating which resulted in our breakup.

This was awkward due to the fact that she was my housemates best friend/occasional lover and, in the following weeks, started fucking my neighbour.

Remember how I said we shared a wall? Well, these walls were not in a good state of repair. There was a large crack in the corner of the room that let air, light and importantly, noise through with gay abandon. Those nights of screaming passion which I had previously listened to as a participant I now listened to as an observer and my god was it hard to sleep.

Let me say that I was bitter. I had lost my nubile young 17 year old to John, tensions in the house were high and I wasn't sleeping terribly well at all.

One night I snapped. When the rhythmic pounding from the other side of the wall gradually built to orgasmic screaming I started yelling at them to shut the fuck up. I threw shoes, I pounded on the wall with my angry fists. In my blind, love-lorn desperation, however, I found the magic bullet. I started mimicking their orgasms at volume. Every time she screamed 'oh John fuck me!' I too screamed 'oh John fuck me!'. I copied every wailing crescendo, every pleasurable groan, every deeply penetrated shriek that came from her wide open mouth and, within a flaccidity-inducing space of time all was silent.

I had turned down a threesome, I had lost the girl and Helen moved out not long after. I got my sleep in the end but the sweet wine of Morpheus only tasted of ash and regret ...
(randomscrub, Thu 5 Mar 2009, 5:06, 11 replies)