"Part of my kitchen floor are thick with dust, grease, part of a broken mug, a few mummified oven-chips, a desiccated used teabag and a couple of pieces of cutlery", says Sandettie Light Vessel Automatic. To most people, that's filth. To some of us, that's dinner. Tell us about squalid homes or obsessive cleaners.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:00)
« Go Back
I lived in really dodgy private halls which was actually a bad boys home that'd been taken over by a dodgy letting agent.
Basically it was a 30 bedroom house surrounded by bars that'd been given to a bunch of students, the place was absolutely disgusting and the cleaner quit a couple weeks in and wasn't replaced.
About 3 weeks after I moved in, and due to my room being minus a lock and useable window, I was moved in to one of my friends rooms (who'd upgraded himself to an ensuite).
The room had a sink in it.
Into the sink Owen had shaved his hair and then before bothering to clean this out, been sick.
Then he'd moved.
Leaving me with a lovely sinkful of hairy sick.
It's not easy to convince hairy sick to go down the plughole.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:47, Reply)
« Go Back