Bad companyWhilst at uni (down in sunny Bournemouth) had the misfortune of living with an cranberry.
In the 2nd year 6 of us were moving in a house but one girl bailed at the last minute. So usual ads put up, only with my mobile number (only phone in the house on it). One guy kept calling from a payphone using 10p's but one of my flat mates invited him round, despite most peoples fears. Seemed nice enough, so he moved in.
Usual crap ensued, no washing up, messy, would through spaghetti at the walls in the kitchen (if it sticks, it's cooked - tip for your next newsletter?) then leave it. His bedroom stank quite bizarrely of cats piss.
He drank a lot, most people did but this guy would go on 72 hour binges - finally come to and complain that his liver hurt. All his mates were the dodgiest bunch of pikey's going, one bought a fruit machine in order to learn how to drill it but didn't appreciate how heavy they are. Left it in my bedroom for 3 months!
Then there was his missus, biggest slapper of all time and a minger with it. One time his dad called him & i knocked on his door and told him the phone was outside, 5 mins later I walked past phone still there with his dadstill waiting. I knocked on his door, pinched my nose & walked in to see him shagging his missus doggy style. Shouted at him that his dad was still waiting, then left the phone in his room. He carried on banging away with his dad listening then hung up on him. Classy guy.
I got loads more stories about what this twunt got up to, like mailing ganj back to himself from the 'dam & then getting letters from customs & excise. And acting surprised. He also screwed some of my flat mates for about £800 when we all left.
(,
Wed 19 Nov 2003, 12:52,
archived)
In the 2nd year 6 of us were moving in a house but one girl bailed at the last minute. So usual ads put up, only with my mobile number (only phone in the house on it). One guy kept calling from a payphone using 10p's but one of my flat mates invited him round, despite most peoples fears. Seemed nice enough, so he moved in.
Usual crap ensued, no washing up, messy, would through spaghetti at the walls in the kitchen (if it sticks, it's cooked - tip for your next newsletter?) then leave it. His bedroom stank quite bizarrely of cats piss.
He drank a lot, most people did but this guy would go on 72 hour binges - finally come to and complain that his liver hurt. All his mates were the dodgiest bunch of pikey's going, one bought a fruit machine in order to learn how to drill it but didn't appreciate how heavy they are. Left it in my bedroom for 3 months!
Then there was his missus, biggest slapper of all time and a minger with it. One time his dad called him & i knocked on his door and told him the phone was outside, 5 mins later I walked past phone still there with his dadstill waiting. I knocked on his door, pinched my nose & walked in to see him shagging his missus doggy style. Shouted at him that his dad was still waiting, then left the phone in his room. He carried on banging away with his dad listening then hung up on him. Classy guy.
I got loads more stories about what this twunt got up to, like mailing ganj back to himself from the 'dam & then getting letters from customs & excise. And acting surprised. He also screwed some of my flat mates for about £800 when we all left.
ooooh, thought of another onein my second year, i lived with more of a zeppelin than a bastard, you had to pity him really.
he was alright when i knew him in the first year. but then i moved into a house, which, being a student house, was a skank pit before we'd even moved in.
this guy wanted to be a goth and adam ant (he called it a romantigoth). he was also a christian, and thought it was ok to wank as long as you didnt think about sex while you were doing it.
he used to sit in the middle of a sunny day with every light in the room on and the curtains drawn and then complain about the electricity bill.
he played warhammer (should tell you a lot). even worked in games workshop (i used to steal his work shirts and wear them when he was out, leaving enormous air-breasts in them. o the crazy japes). then he used to bring back the 14 year olds he met at work (bear in mind he was 20) to our house while i was trying to watch fear and loathing in las vegas, and proceed to trash the kitchen when there was no pepsi in the house to get em drunk with. they were typical 14 year old goths - i.e. little shits. he thought he could fix anything with some glue and a tin of tuna (?) and we had a broken cupboard door (right at shin-bashing height) for 6 months after his numerous attempts to bodge it.
worse of all, he kept all his models in our front room. one day i spent hours painting an ork pink. he wasnt happy.
we lived in a really shitty estate - the local 12 year olds used to throw rocks at him. to protect himself, he carried round some multi coloured throwing knives. mmmm, tough. sometimes he confused them by asking why they would hurt him and had they thought about jesus?
he used to hide my laundry, making me go to work on soaking wet trousers. crikey, i find myself getting mad just thinking about him.
then christmas-just us 2 the house. his arse had exploded and coated the toilet bowl. i refused to go near it (lucky we had two bogs), and he refused to clean it. didnt see why he should! it was the most disgusting thing. yellow too. so i refused to do any washing up. when he cooked his dinner (using all my food), i ate mine and then took his dinner off him before he had a chance to have a bite, and then ate it all. (and he was a shit cook - but it was the principle of the thing) no wonder i put on weight. he literally couldnt comprehend the concept of ownership.
oh, and when we moved out, after i spent hours cleaning the house, he had a huge party after we'd all gone (including bonfire) and we lost £300 deposits. i spoke to people who'd been there (one of whom stole my favourite dressing gown), but he still denied it ever took place. but then we refused to pay his £300 leccy bills (see earlier). oh the joy.
its fun staying in a house when you dont speak for 6 months.
(,
Wed 19 Nov 2003, 15:59,
archived)
he was alright when i knew him in the first year. but then i moved into a house, which, being a student house, was a skank pit before we'd even moved in.
this guy wanted to be a goth and adam ant (he called it a romantigoth). he was also a christian, and thought it was ok to wank as long as you didnt think about sex while you were doing it.
he used to sit in the middle of a sunny day with every light in the room on and the curtains drawn and then complain about the electricity bill.
he played warhammer (should tell you a lot). even worked in games workshop (i used to steal his work shirts and wear them when he was out, leaving enormous air-breasts in them. o the crazy japes). then he used to bring back the 14 year olds he met at work (bear in mind he was 20) to our house while i was trying to watch fear and loathing in las vegas, and proceed to trash the kitchen when there was no pepsi in the house to get em drunk with. they were typical 14 year old goths - i.e. little shits. he thought he could fix anything with some glue and a tin of tuna (?) and we had a broken cupboard door (right at shin-bashing height) for 6 months after his numerous attempts to bodge it.
worse of all, he kept all his models in our front room. one day i spent hours painting an ork pink. he wasnt happy.
we lived in a really shitty estate - the local 12 year olds used to throw rocks at him. to protect himself, he carried round some multi coloured throwing knives. mmmm, tough. sometimes he confused them by asking why they would hurt him and had they thought about jesus?
he used to hide my laundry, making me go to work on soaking wet trousers. crikey, i find myself getting mad just thinking about him.
then christmas-just us 2 the house. his arse had exploded and coated the toilet bowl. i refused to go near it (lucky we had two bogs), and he refused to clean it. didnt see why he should! it was the most disgusting thing. yellow too. so i refused to do any washing up. when he cooked his dinner (using all my food), i ate mine and then took his dinner off him before he had a chance to have a bite, and then ate it all. (and he was a shit cook - but it was the principle of the thing) no wonder i put on weight. he literally couldnt comprehend the concept of ownership.
oh, and when we moved out, after i spent hours cleaning the house, he had a huge party after we'd all gone (including bonfire) and we lost £300 deposits. i spoke to people who'd been there (one of whom stole my favourite dressing gown), but he still denied it ever took place. but then we refused to pay his £300 leccy bills (see earlier). oh the joy.
its fun staying in a house when you dont speak for 6 months.
you'll have giant norks then?what? just asking..
(
monstrinho do biscoito teeeshurts = www.nogunarmy.com,
Thu 20 Nov 2003, 20:07,
archived)