Complete and utter dickI'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.
(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.
Zuowan,
Mon 17 Nov 2003, 18:18,
archived)
Cam't speak too badly of him...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)
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.