Ahem.I was staying at a re-housing project for young homelesses, after a sad sorry break up, that left me vulnerable and a little bit mental.
My first flatmate did all the usual, y'know, loud music, eating my cheese out of the fridge, all that stuff. He moved out and I had the flat to myself for a month and it was bliss.
My new flatmate was a little ginger fella from Cumbria, who, for the purposes of this thread I shall call 'Bill' (Cos that was his name).
First things first (or somewhere in the middle) - They had a rule that no-one was given a room if they had a history of crime - particularly anything violent.
Bill, however, had just gotten out of a young offenders institute for 2 counts of ABH, one for knocking his mum out, one for choking his stepdad to the point of unconciousness, then stamping on his face till he came round.
This made me nervous.
So a couple of weeks went by and Bill started to tell me about his life and all that, including the colourful tale of 'the bat'. See it turns out that in Cumbria, if you aren't paying for the Smack you take, you get a visit from Bill and the bat. Again, nerves are cued at this point.
To cut a long story not very short at all, I was in the kitchen making lunch, but couldnt find my Chef knife (all big and shiny and sharp). Bill was out so, randomly, I went to look for the knife in his room. Again randomly, I lifted up his pillow. Big fucking knife. Fear. Knife. Fear. Knife. Run. To the hills. Fast. Now.
Then I met Mrs Muhnquai and she let me come and hide in her bed. Then I moved out.
(My first flatmate did all the usual, y'know, loud music, eating my cheese out of the fridge, all that stuff. He moved out and I had the flat to myself for a month and it was bliss.
My new flatmate was a little ginger fella from Cumbria, who, for the purposes of this thread I shall call 'Bill' (Cos that was his name).
First things first (or somewhere in the middle) - They had a rule that no-one was given a room if they had a history of crime - particularly anything violent.
Bill, however, had just gotten out of a young offenders institute for 2 counts of ABH, one for knocking his mum out, one for choking his stepdad to the point of unconciousness, then stamping on his face till he came round.
This made me nervous.
So a couple of weeks went by and Bill started to tell me about his life and all that, including the colourful tale of 'the bat'. See it turns out that in Cumbria, if you aren't paying for the Smack you take, you get a visit from Bill and the bat. Again, nerves are cued at this point.
To cut a long story not very short at all, I was in the kitchen making lunch, but couldnt find my Chef knife (all big and shiny and sharp). Bill was out so, randomly, I went to look for the knife in his room. Again randomly, I lifted up his pillow. Big fucking knife. Fear. Knife. Fear. Knife. Run. To the hills. Fast. Now.
Then I met Mrs Muhnquai and she let me come and hide in her bed. Then I moved out.
Bud Muhnquai Update your profile or fuck off,
Wed 19 Nov 2003, 11:22,
archived)
And if yer lucky.Mrs Muhnquai might come on later to tell you about "The Chicken and Chips Man".
Its a corker.
(Its a corker.
Bud Muhnquai Update your profile or fuck off,
Wed 19 Nov 2003, 11:24,
archived)
i wait with baited breath.it's been baited with herring.
(
Thor_sonofodin has done things, terrible things on,
Wed 19 Nov 2003, 11:28,
archived)