"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)
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Derby & Rathbone Halls, Liverpool, 1999
Best years of your life etc... We had a communal kitchen on each floor; about 40 students to a kitchen with one tiny fridge. Being frugal, most opted to keep at least a little food in the fridge. Food, marked or unmarked, was snaffled up on a nightly basis by drunkards. Most saw it as collateral damage and accepted it, for others however, tensions ran high.
Some opted for diplomacy and left polite post-its on the door; one man chose direct action. He could have been the target of repeated thefts, but I suspect this was the first time he was a victim...
On returning to the kitchen from a night out, a group of revellers/raiders opened the fridge to find a single, very large (somewhere between a Stella can and a packet of Pringles), khaki-brown shit on neatly folded kitchen paper, with a note that simply read:
"eat this, not my ham"
(Mike's ham had been stolen the night before; Mike did a poo, and placed it in the fridge, it wasn't hard to join the dots. From that day forth he was known as Mike the Shit)
(, Fri 26 Mar 2010, 11:42, 3 replies)
Somebody urinated in a milk container and popped it into the communal fridge. It stayed there for a whole term, wrapped in a Tesco bag so people didn't have to see it. Only to smell it.
(, Sat 27 Mar 2010, 8:10, closed)
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