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This is a question How clean is your house?

"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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Aaron was his name.
Back in the days when I was a student at a reasonably well known northern land based/agricultural college. I lived in a couple of shared, college managed houses.

Students as you know for it has been archived in many post below and most probably above are some of the least sanitary animals in the world. Some ranking on a par with Tubifex tubifex.
Two of my past housemates were quite memorable as being particularly vile. The first was Sarah. She was proof that’s it not just men whom are lazy, untidy and unclean. Never cleaned had mountains of clothes all over her room the usual. But the icing on the cake was the fact she kept guinea pigs in her room! This subsequently made the 1st floor of the house stink of rodent piss. The other was Aaron.
Now Aaron was studying countryside management*. He was from a traditional countryside, Yorkshire background. “Strong in arm, thick in Ed”. He truly was a choice filthmunger. I shall now regale you with a few tales.

1. There was the time he brought a brace of pheasants home from a bit of pouching no doubt. Now as some of you may know game tends to favour a bit of hanging before consumption. The house had a conservatory type thing, this is where Aaron choose to hang these pheasants. FOR THREE MONTHS! In direct sunlight no less. The sticky puddles beneath them, would have been enough to make Bear Gills bauck! I’m fairly sure he made one of them into some kind of sweet and sour putrid flesh dish.

B. Fortunately Aaron had the ground floor bedroom and therefore had his own separate bathroom. The first thing you would notice about this bathroom (well after the stench of sweat and urine) was the lack of toilet paper. I asked him one day what he wiped with, he replied “Jus av a shower instead”. Never used that shower again! But that’s not the point; his bathroom was linked via a small lobby to the kitchen. We gave up on having tea towels after we found pubes in them. He was using them in lieu of his own towels!

iii. Aaron didn’t have his own telly. So I found him one day laying on my bed, watching TV after coming straight in from playing rugby, went a bit mental at him for that one!

D. I once went into his room trying to muster the whereabouts of some of the pots and cutlery and all of the pans. I don’t know if you have ever seen a pair of skid marked riddled pants in a pan of mouldy supernoodles, but it is quite a life affirming. Its makes you realise, you could die tomorrow!

iv. And finally the blood on his curtains. To this day nobody other than Aaron knows how this got there. Your ideas on a postcard please.

I would have told him to sort it out but he was quite a big fucker and kept a shotgun underneath his bed! He’s in the TA’s now

*Also known as gamekeeping.
(, Sun 28 Mar 2010, 23:06, 3 replies)
Yeah, I had a country type for a housemate for a while
He too kept a rifle under his bed. Most disconcerting isn't it...
(, Mon 29 Mar 2010, 2:17, closed)

I presume he'd been wiping his knob on the curtains after intimate congress with one or more women who didn't own calendars, [or simply didn't care...]
(, Mon 29 Mar 2010, 8:04, closed)

That was my reckoning, however he had for a while before that been tempting a cat into his room. Also I once found him in the dark in the back garden with a knife. I asked him what he was doing to which he replied "Hunting hedgehogs"
(, Mon 29 Mar 2010, 19:48, closed)

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