I saw a documentary a few years ago about two housemates.
It turns out Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau really don’t get on.
( GarbageFan didn't know what to have as a board sig on, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 23:19, Reply)

Buckaroo

I'd forgotten about this until it was mentioned a few posts below. I thought me and my mates were the only people who played it.

Human Buckaroo.

When someone passes out in the living room it's time for Buckaroo. You ever-so-gently start to load the snoring piss-head up with whatever you can without waking him up. Empty cans, cushions, chairs, table lamps and, memorably, the kitchen bin (that turned out not to be such a great idea in retrospect)

It can get quite tense towards the end.

Eventually your victim will wake and then you yell:

"BUCKAROO!!"

And watch everything go flying across the room as they wake up and spaz out.

Very, very childish.

I last played this when I was 42.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 23:04, 12 replies)

Vegetarian cunty cunters
For a bit of extra cash i rent out a room in my flat, and being in Edinburgh there's always a range of nationalities wandering through the city staying for a year or so and then moving on.

One was a German girl, seemed nice when 'interviewed'. But soon after moving in, started giving my grief for inconsiderately storing bacon in the fridge... apparently its presence 'contaminated' everything with meat particles.

apparently it was unforgivably immoral of me to FORCE meat on her.

1. fuck off, it's my fridge
2. it's bacon!
3. live and let live you tard (except the pigs, they can die)

edit: not sure her being german is needed for the story, but i've lived with s.african/sweedish/norwegian/japanese/irish/german people... and only the germans have been routinely arseholes.
( Shiodome has realised numbers in names aren't cool., Sun 1 Mar 2009, 22:20, 5 replies)

Housemates Girlfriend.
My housemate had a girlfriend. She bored the shit out of us, but we didn't mind, at least he was getting his hole. Well I say we didn't mind, we didn't mind until she started turning up uninvited. Especially when he wasn't in.

Our house has one of those locks that needs to be locked with a key, rather than a yale type job. We only tend to lock this at night. She started letting herself in, something that I thought a little rude, especially as my housemate had told her to let herself in once, when he was expecting her. Anyway, my housemate was down for the leeds festival, my other housemate was working. I knew that I had the house to myself and had just finished work, I was in the mentality that I had the next few hours to myself, I could slob out and not have to talk to anyone. So I'm sat there at about midnight watching a repeat of TNG, keeping myself to myself, and who comes through the door? Housemates missus. Great, being in the state of mind I was in, patter wasn't something I was planning on, cue a couple of hours of silence and me trying to ignore her. Apart from a conversation that went like this
"Hi, you do know that B isn't back till Sunday?"
"I thought monday"

I learned my lesson and kept the front door locked, so I was rather shocked to find her walking in through the back door. She was rather shocked to see a dishevelled lanky cunt lying in their gruds on the sofa though.
( Slippery Mick ‏, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 22:16, Reply)

Camping.
A friend of mine was living in Halls at Birmingham Uni. He was also Akela of a local cub pack. He took the cubs camping for a weekend and while he was a way his housemates emptied his room, turfed it and pitched a tent inside. As Jon was rather busy when he returned he spent a couple of nights under canvas before he could sort it out.
(jvz, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 21:32, 1 reply)

A religious experience.
The last shared house I lived in I started off sharing with 4 others. I lived there for eight weeks and in that time everyone else left. The house was a traditional Victorian Terrace where the bathroom had been put in an extension at the rear and you had to go through the living/dining room and kitchen to get to it. The last person to leave I'd got along ok with. One day the Mormons came knocking and she invited them in for a chat. I may not agree with all they say and do but each to their own. What I did object to was when she had some to visit and they tried to convert me when I was busting for a pee/dump, or with only a towel round me after a bath.
One weekend I made the dutiful visit to the parents and on my return found the house empty. A few weeks later the landlord informed me that she had had a breakdown and was back with her parents.
(jvz, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 21:26, Reply)

Priorities
Shared a place with someone once who told me how she used to have a drug problem and had colluded with some of her dropout friends to burgle her parents house. She was hot though and 20 years on she is still in the wank bank.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 20:28, Reply)

Another uni story, sorry...
In my first year, I lived with a guy and two girls. The lad (P) was fairly quiet, kept himself to himself (has since become union president, so something changed there), and didn't like anyone being in his room for longer than a quick chat. He was very proud of all his stuff and kept everything spotless. One girl (B) was really nice, helped me through a couple of teen angst issues, but again, not much of a party animal. To be fair, at this time, neither was I.

J though, loved the booze. Lairy, cheeky, Northern, not the smallest girl, but would quite happily go out in tiny skirts and tops, drunk most nights. At the time, I found her incredibly annoying.

Anyway, backstory out of the way. One night, J had been out on the lash, again, and came in with her mates, completely plastered. Rolling round on the landing, legs akimbo, I ducked into P's room to mock and snigger. Anyway, she came in, and trod on the edge of a shelf that was waiting to be put up.

She winced, but carried on talking, until the carpet under her foot started to turn red. She'd gashed her toe open pretty badly, and started running round the room, spreading the blood more. P's face was a picture; absolute horror. Me and B were torn between helping and pissing herself.

Eventually, we sat her in the bath, raised her foot and called an ambulance. B went with her, and me and P got to cleaning up. The bathroom looked like something from CSI, and his bedroom carpet was a complete state. Lots of 1001 and Vanish later, things were normal.

P barely spoke to her again, and she moved out a couple of weeks later, then left the uni. Shame really, she was the most fun, we'd probably get on like a house on fire now.
(Dizzy Steinway, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 20:03, Reply)

(Not) another when I was at uni story.......
The first rule in my old student house was that if you fell asleep with your shoes on, you were fair game for a few pranks.

One of my housemates, Dan (A gentleman and a scholar to boot) had a habit of getting drunk, falling asleep on the sofa and snoring so loud the window panes would rattle.

We did the usual: shaving foam, permanent marker etc, we even had the occasional game of human buck-a-roo. It all became a bit of a routine and started to wear thin.

One night Dan came home around 11pm. He collapsed on the sofa, a bit worse for wear, and promptly fell asleep accompanied by the foghorn snoring. I managed to partially rouse him a couple of times and enquire if he would get his arse in bed so that I could continue watching TV in peace, but he was not for moving.

Then I had a lightbulb moment, Our 2 female housemates were out on the lash and would be back with some of their freinds later on. I changed the channel on the sky box (posh student house, original wooden floors and all that shit) to one of those soft-porn-premium-phoneline-chat-to-a-silicone-filled-umpalumpa-for-£15/min efforts, I made sure it was a particularly ropey looking specimen. I then proceeed to pull his trousers and boxers down a bit, put the TV remote in one of his hands and put the other one on his old chap and fucked off to bed.

The girls (about 6 of them I was told) came back and found him, and then woke him up.....once he realised where he was and what was happening he turned a funny shade of red and legged it up to his room.

My only regret is that I did not capture the perfect kodak moment.

I have never revealed to Dan that I set the whole thing up, he will never live it down, getting 'caught' pulling his pud over a wrinkly ronseal slapper.

Length, well the girls got an eyefull.....
(tofer is sweating like a dyslexic on countdown......, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 19:29, 2 replies)

The saddest young man in the world
I was lodging with a very well to-do family in their large, modern home. The parents were very friendly types, the kind who’d watch Midsomer Murders on a Saturday night, but blush as soon as anything remotely adult appeared on screen. They had a complete failure of a son, who was older than myself, but worked in Sainsbury’s and rarely left his room, and a daughter, Gemma, who was my age, and whose room was directly opposite mine.
Gemma wasn’t hot, but she was certainly attractive, she had a curvy figure and a pretty great body, but was let down by her Jimmy Hill-ean chin; She had the kind of arse that forced involuntary spasms in the trousers of young men. Unfortunately, she also had a boyfriend. A ridiculously good-looking, manly, boyfriend, and their relationship was pretty solid, but of course, that wouldn’t stop me fwapping over her occasionally.

One night I was having trouble sleeping, and after a few minutes of tossing and turning, I became aware of a quiet, squeaking sound coming from across the hall. It took me a second to realise what it must be; Gemma and Captain Fantastic going at it, their bedsprings squeaking to the rhythm of their energetic thrusting. The thought started to get me going, I was becoming turned on, and my imagination ran wild with images of their sweaty embrace.
My hands reached down, and I began tugging at my meaty shaft. My head filled with fantasies of Gemma being taken roughly from behind, quietly whimpering as her boyfriend’s rigid cock bounced merrily off her G spot, then he flips her over, wraps her ankles around her shoulders, slides deep inside her, and they kiss gently as he grinds his hips against hers. I vividly imagined her smell, her taste, the way she would feel, in my mind I had taken the place of her boyfriend. I was making her feel things she had never felt before, taken her and pleasured her like never before, and then she came, writhing and arching her body beneath me. I was spent, the fantasy had done its job, and I tried to get to sleep.

However, the squeaking bedsprings went on for a long time after I’d finished, it felt like at least an hour before Gemma’s large, brute of a man had spilled his load.
The next morning I awoke early, and as I pottered around my bedroom I became aware of the bedspring sound again. Surely they weren’t at it again? I have to admit, I was impressed by their stamina, and decided to knock out another quick one before I left for work.

I straightened myself up, got ready, and stepped out into the hall. The bastard squeaking was still going, but looking at the floor, I realised where it had been coming from the whole time. Gemma had left her Hamster cage by her bedroom door, the sound of little Hammy running in his wheel had been keeping her awake at night.

Fucksocks. I’d only been wanking over a cunting Hamster.
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 19:27, 4 replies)

More Housemates From Hell...
2000-2001 - Claire: So fat you had to either wait for her to speak or start eating before you knew where her mouth was. Had a Staffordshire bull terrier, which like it's owner was so corpulent it was often hard to tell which end was which. So difficult in fact that it took me 5 months to realise I had been inserting bonios into its rectum!

2001 - Clive: A bookish nerd with a beard in which lived remnants of a thousand meals and had a collection of Noel Edmonds sweaters. His room smelt of mouldy socks and sweaty armpits. Went on to write a paper on the Higgs Boson.

2003 - Hilda: A fiftysomething divorceé who inexplicably decided to live in a shared house. Her room was immaculate and smelt of "Evening in Paris". She took a shine to me and plied me with Pinot Grigio and Rohypnol before riding my hard glistening manmeat to several earth-shuddering climaxes each more cataclysmic than the last. The first I knew about it was when I awoke the next morning to a close up quarters view of her pudenda lazily leaking spent ejaculate onto the bedclothes.

2004 - Dylan: A pillhead with a honkyfro and a collection of speed garage CDs which sounded for all the world like a mix between a rapid succession of car alarms going off and the soundtrack of a man's heartbeat during a particularly complex coronary. He threw a party, dropped some weapons grade Ecstasy and spent the evening talking so fast only hummingbirds could understand him. Was last seen running naked up the fast lane of the M20 trying to overtake a Mondeo.
(Vic Flange, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 19:07, 3 replies)

Various weirdos, morons and the occasional legend
Kris was a Welsh rugby boy from Pontypridd. I used to have to tell him what he'd done after pretty much every night out since he could never remember anything.

Kris fancied a girl from upstairs called Jo. One weekend, Jo brought her 16-year old sister Fran to visit. We all went out and got fucked. Fran more than anyone else, since she got fucked by Kris.

In the morning, Jo came downstairs and knocked on Kris's door. Her sister opened the door, walked out without saying a word and went upstairs. Jo stood at the door, looking at Kris, who was still in bed. Kris comes out with the following, immortal line.

"Okay. Does this, in any way, affect my chances with you?"
(cypherspace is not a toaster, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 18:53, 2 replies)

Living in middle earth.
Its a shock to find common ground with the daily fail, but they have a point about the crack like nature of World of warcraft.

My mate lives in a house with 5 other guys. All of them are addicted to WOW. Now these are all either educated to masters level or working towards a masters degree in science/engineering subjects. smart guys but totally obsessed with killing orcs. The ones who have graduated don't have jobs, preferring to use their MSc s to pretend to be wizards on the dole.

None of them leave their rooms, My mate feels alone all the time he is home despite living in a large house.

My other friend is in a moderately successful band, and is having offers from record companies. Offers that had to be turned down as his drummer devoted the last two years of his 'life' to WOW.

I have never known anything to be as destructive as WOW to ones life. I have lived with stoners, known people who have Scarface size amounts of class A s on them at all times. The actual drug users were able to moderate their behavior enough to maintain jobs and education, along with social lives. I have yet to see someone who plays WOW do this.


Do not share accommodation with RPGers
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 17:49, 5 replies)

probably me
after lots of cocktails and shots, about 10 of us went to guilty pleasures up in camden. great night, we were just about the only people not in fancy dress, and i have some very obscure photographs this morning of us all dirty dancing with clowns and comedy strongmen and... bears.

anyway. my friend lara and i were the last 2 standing when it shut at 3am. we'd met some random bankers, who insisted that we went up to hampstead for burgers, so it was about 5.30am before we staggered home. and i only realised when i couldn't open the electric gates that i had brought my dad's house keys out, NOT my flat keys. flatmate was in bed as she had a 7.30am start today in a major rowing competition.

fuck. two pissed up twats in short skirts and high heeled boots trying to climb over 6' spiky iron railings is not a good look. nor is it a quiet one.

eventually lara fell over the fence and opened the gate when she tumbled past the sensor. result. somehow i got down without sacrificing my anus to the spikes and lara rang the buzzer. about 15 times. no response. then i realised she had just been pressing different buzzers at random. fuck. this is london. you don't know your neighbours, never mind wake them at 5.30 in the morning.

hastily, i rang flatmate's mobile, and after about 3 minutes of poisonous invective, she let us in before everyone else found out who was causing the kerfuffle.

i am very very unpopular today. there was an abusive message on the hall blackboard and everything. hence my hiding at work and have just arranged to go out tonight even though i feel like shit warmed up so that i don't have to see her...

and speaking of work, as it's dead on here today anyway, all i can hear are phones going off. hello. who is thick enough to call their solicitor at 5.10pm on a sunday? surely 9am monday morning is more appropriate...
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 17:14, 5 replies)

I haven’t got any stories about living with people.
But then again, that isn't really surprising, as I am Charles Bronson.
( GarbageFan didn't know what to have as a board sig on, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 17:12, Reply)

A stinky little psycho
When I first moved to Galway i only knew one person so i moved into the house he shared with a few others. everything was grand between me and him we usually just sat in a hzy bubble and tried not to be around when the landlady called (rent was a slight problem!) so this was grand except for the girl Sarah* that lived in the house too . Now i know the sterotypical view that women are cleaner smell nicer than boys isn't always true but this took the biscuit!

if she was in the sitting room watching tv and you wanted to watch a bit too you had to pretend to go in, get something (magazine, lighter whatever and leave again but leave the door open. to freshen the room you could say before going back in later.

Another time we had a few mates round and some of the girls went for a tour of the house came back into the room and thought that her room had to be either my room or my mates as it stank so bad, when we told them it was a girls they refused to believe until Sarah came home and went to her room and wouldn't come out all night (thankfully).

Alas this was not the most cringeworthy thing i witnessed in the house. The last night i lived there (myself and my mate were moving the next day into town) i was busy packing some things into boxes when i hear sarah, her boyfriend (WTF!) and his mate come in after a night out. The TV goes on and after a few minutes i hear walking up the stairs into her room and silence. for about 30 seconds that is... the still night silence was broken by moans of delight and passion. feeling sick at hearing this i headed to my mates room where the noises couldn't be heard and helped him pack instead. it was passing the sitting room that i decided to knock off the TV (save the planet etc etc) and noticed the lump on the couch was Sarah's boyfriend. She had taken his mate upstairs to ride instead. Classy bird indeed.

Oh yeah she also hated snails and made a point of killing everyone she seen. weird

*name not changed to protect
(Samantha Bricks Better half done a poo on, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 16:45, 4 replies)

House sword!
When you first moved into a rented house
what did you get first? Ikea plates? a tesco value kettle? a selection of road signs?.

Not my flatmate, first day in he immediately clocked what he needed and when straight to the local gun shop and got a kantanna sword.

Foolish? not really not only is a great conversation starter, for instance everyone was talking about the time another flatmate ran off with it in order to join in a street fight(see my other posts)

Also the neighbors borrowed it so they could threaten to cut the offending parts off their sex pest/nudist flatmate.

Do you have a house sword?
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 16:14, 24 replies)

in 2001 I came back from holiday to find my friend had moved out and a guy called Sam from the Isle of Wight had moved in.
Sam was a proper blokey bloke. He liked working out, drinking, arguing, fighting and crack cocaine.
He was about 5 foot 2 and built like Mike Tyson. We went out of our way to avoid mentioning his shortness.

The house was very untidy. That's just the way it was. It was our house and it wasn't going to change.
Sam didn't agree. It was his house now and he was determined to alpha-male it into being tidy.
His first tactic was to invite some slappers to the house and try to embarrass us into spring-cleaning.
After that failed he tried shouting, offering to share his crack and repeatedly threatening us with physical violence before hitting on a final solution: smashing around 30 plates and 24 eggs against the living room walls.
The stated reason for this was that we'd "driven him to it" and now we'd "have to tidy up".

Instead we just moved upstairs, where another empty room was ready for use as a substitute living room.
Nobody tidied downstairs until Sam moved out and the landlord came round to see how much money he'd have to take out of his deposit.
( Zuowan, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 16:01, Reply)

Housemates from hell....
1990 - Sheila: Country and Western fan, played EmmyLou Harris records at full blast in the middle of the night whilst drinking her own weight in Blue Nun. Ended up marrying a long distance lorry driver and moving to Penge.

1990-90 - Tamara: With the gravelly voice of a Liverpudlian docker and the table manners to match, she bought her own spitoon and collection of hirsute women to share our table. Disappeared one night only to turn up on Britain's Got Talent playing the Skin Piccolo.

1995 - Dwayne: A public school reject with a long line of fagging and buggary behind him. Got thrown out of almost every pub in town for showing his genitalia to the patrons.

1999 - Karl the Goth: Only wore black and purple and had musical taste lodged firmly in 1986. Looked like a cross between Wayne Hussey and Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. Prone to sticking root vegetables up his rectum and rubbing his testicles with Sandpaper- I dont know what grade.

2000 - Portia: Held a bukkake party in the kitchen, took weeks to get the smell of stale semen out of the room. I remember her running from the room, looking like a half-spent candle shouting "It's in my eye!! Oh god its in my eye!". She ended up running a successful ad agency in Bloomsbury.
(Vic Flange, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 15:31, 1 reply)

Bad luck
So,just for the record, I'm an American, so if any of you girls feel like helping an American get out of the country, feel free to email me.
Ok, so I've had more then my fair share of bad roommate situations, as i type this I've locked myself in the basement of my current apartment, wearing multiple layers of clothes and freezing my ass off because i dont want to have a confrontation with the gothapotamus that lives upstairs. sooo
one roomie i had would come home completely fucking drunk and proceed to take off all her clothes and stumble around the apartment drunker then shit, it wasn't an attractive site at all, had to call the meat wagon and have her committed when she threatened to kill herself one night...
another roommate situation, roomie one of 3 had 8 cats.. yes.. 8 cats in a 2 bedroom apartment, 5 of the cats where kittens, and the stink was god-awful, also she left used tampons laying all over the bathroom and dishes full of mold on the coffee table, the first day i moved in i cleaned the place from top to bottom, two days later it looked the same as if i hadn't touched it.
ive had tons of other bad roomie experiences, lol but i think that would make this into an long long post.
(jonesythemad, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 15:23, Reply)

We don't drink out of glasses anymore.
Not since I wandered into my housemates room to discover 2 pint glasses of mouldy piss on his bedside table. His excuse was his room is furthest from the lav, Which it may be, apart from the fact this 3 bed house has 3 bedrooms upstairs where the doors open out onto a 1 square metre landing. There are occasions when I could condone this behaviour, such as when you're bursting and someone's hogging the bathroom (i usually just have a slash behind the shed). But his mitigating circumstances? He was playing his ps2 in the middle of the day and didn't want to put his housecoat on and traverse the stairs.

Then again this is the same cretin that spent half an hour having a shit the other day, then promptly collapsed in a heap due to dead legs.
( Slippery Mick ‏, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 14:23, 4 replies)

How I nearly gave my dad a golden shower.
A few years ago I was staying at the parents over summer and trying to earn some cash for the next year of university. I was working evenings as a potwash. A year of fucked up sleep patterns and boozing meant I'd usually come home and have a couple of beers whilst watching telly or dicking about on the internet.

My dad suffers quite badly from migraines, as the weather changes he can have a fortnight of frequent migraines that result in him sitting around holding his head. I occasionally get them but not to the degree he does. Now, what people with migraines will tell you is that after the visuals your head fucking canes; the pain experienced is somewhat photosensitive, so it's quite common to feel sorry for yourself in a darkened room.

It was about 2am when I decided I should go for a piss before heading to bed, Since I hate having to get up in the night. I quietly made my way to the bathroom, too lazy to turn on the light I just barged in and started my 'whip the cock out whilst approaching the bog routine' I'm shuffling forward with my had in my gruds when all of a sudden my hand bumps into the balding dome of my fathers head. "Arghhh!" I exclam, "pffffft" he says. He was lucky he was sitting forward, since I was a gnats bollock away from having it out and pissing where I thought the bog was.
( Slippery Mick ‏, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 14:17, Reply)

pissing like a racehorse.
in my old house, we had 4 bedrooms and what can kindly be referred to as a 'box room' it was more fo a thible room, but you could get a bed in it and open the door, so it was let. the downside was that the person living in it had to have a wardrobe on the landing outside.
one time, after some heroic boozing, i left the lounge to go upstairs and relieve myself, when i saw our housemate W, standing eyes closed, swaying like a tree in a gale, but resolutely pissing into this wardrobe.. i mean pissing, like the fuckin zambezi river. i grabbed the girl whose room it was and dragged her out, he's STILL pissing. she runs up the stairs, grabs him, starts shaking him, he's STILL pissing. eventually, he stops, tucks in, smiles, and wanders back to bed without even waking up.

the next morning we sneak into his room armed with a camcorder, shaving foam, and an air horn.
we covered his forehead in foam, then blasted the air horn by his head.

nothing.

another blast, a faint, beatific smile crosses his face, he stirs, then back to snoring peacefully. we got bored and left him to it.

several hours later, he surfaces, and said ' was someone in my room earlier?

jesus.
the funniest bit is that apparently, about a year before (i'd onyl been there 6 months) he wandered into the lounge in a similar state of confusion, past the 2 people sleeping on the couches, to the end where the tv, pc, xbox, cable box and stereo were, and started pissing all over them! it was by luck that the people sleeping in there had turned off the mains to stop the cpu fans whirring, or he'd be a dead man.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 14:05, 2 replies)

Housemates having sex
My housemates are a couple, both friends to me whom I've known for ten years. There are literally no problems.

When I first moved in I half jokingly said "No sex while I'm in, please," and everyone laughed and it was not mentioned again, joking or otherwise.

Well I got up for work one morning, six am, those two didn't have to be up for another two hours and as I enter the kitchen I begin to hear a disturbingly rhythmic sound coming from upstairs.

I think 'nah, couldn't be,' but as the toaster was loaded and the Flora retrieved from the fridge it got louder and more distinct.

rummetyrummetyrummety

I tiptoed into the living room to the foot of the stairs, toast in hand, where I could clearly hear the sound now, and with a look a embarrassment mixed with disbelief I sat on the sofa and ate my toast through the rummetyrummetyrummety.

It was halfway through my second slice I heard another new sound, an odd sound to hear under the circumstances: the sound of a piece of paper being overturned. An office sound. A non sexual sound.

That's when it dawned on me that my housemate had gotten up before me, a feat of Biblical standards in itself...and was printing out multiple copies of a project she'd been working on, on a huge printer I had barely seen and obviously forgotten about.

When I told my male housemate later he laughed first, then quite seriously told me that "there's no way she'd ever get it from me that early."

I like where I live.
(oneltrchardonnay, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 13:52, Reply)

of crack whores, and ninjas.
my old housemate, love him as i do, shall remain nameless.
one night he rbought round this girl.. spoke entirely in a horrendous polish/english bo selecta-esque accent... right up until i asked her something, when she became briefly, and clearly unintentionally cockney. but i digress. she was, to coin a phrase,as mad as a bag of wasps in a salad spinner. she was also jacked up to the eyeballs on speed, which she was feeding him.
this resulted in the two of them, fucked off their asses on speed, making an unholy row until about the time i got up for work.
this happened a couple of times.
then he moved out.
he came back to visit and she showed up. once again much mashedness occurred. the difference this time was he became somewhat.. paranoid? was absolutely stone-cold serious that there were people in the back garden on the roof of the extension, shining torches at him.
despite our protestations that due to the layout of our street, short of climbing over a rooftop and navigating a bunch of cluttered, high fenced gardens, or flying in, this was a complete impossibilty, unless we were beset by a gang of 40 foot ladder-carrying ninjas (who had managed to disappear without trace, we even got on the roof in question and checked the neighbouring gardens) nevertheless, he decided the police should be called.
three
fucking
times.

the fourth time he called them, they asked to be put on to one of us, and said in no uncertain terms, if he rang again he was coming in.
we confiscated his phone at this point, and this stopped him calling the police.
it didn't however, stop him bursting out into the yard periodically wildly waving a hammer and staring accusingly at shrubbery.
when i got up that day i found him huddled in a doorway, half under a blanket, STILL clutching the hammer, drifting off to sleep in little fits and starts, and waking, jumping half out of his skin, half-heartedly waving the hammer, then dozing off again.
the mad bastard
the spice of life, that boy.

the craziest bit is that days, weeks even later, he was STILL convinced it was real.
it was only a few months later, in a moment of clarity he admitted he 'might have been going a bit funny'
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 13:51, 2 replies)