Joe.
I had a really sweet deal going on with my first flat. 3 bedrooms. 2 living rooms. Kitchen. Bathroom with BRILLIANT shower. etc. 50 a week plus gas/electric. No council tax.

Joe (a guy I had worked with before) came and asked if he could possibly move in with me as his flat was in the middle of being sold and he had to find somewhere new to live etc (this turned out to be grade A bullshit). I said yes even though it meant my rent went up but as it would be split by 2 it didn't matter.

He used to complain about coming home from work and my girlfriend being in the house (with me I might add. In my room) but didn't see anything wrong with having his mates round 3 times a week. 3 of them sitting in the living room smoking dope the whole night.

Used to go out to play with his band on a Saturday night. Come home Sunday after a night of Speed and dope and crash out on the sofa. Then whenever you went into the kitchen...
"oh.. shh man. I'm trying to sleep."
"Well Joe. Go to your bed. Not the sofa"
"Nah. I'm fine here."
Maybe you are but it means I have to stay out of the living room/kitchen for the next 6 hours you cunt.

He started dealing speed out of the flat and leaving his dope out when he knew fine my g/f babysat my little bro and my mum would come round to pick him up.

He was frequently late paying his rent (as he grudged the fact that he sub letted from me and had to pay me.) And when the time came for us to look for somewhere new he went a bit bunny boiler and took control. Choosing a place. Negotiating rent. Picking his room. etc before I had even seen the place.

I moved in with my Dad for a few months and left him to it. He wasn't pleased but I'll be fucked if I was paying his bills for him as he was vaguely odd about exact amounts for each thing. Only telling me that I would be due him £££'s every week. I knew he would try to stop my g/f coming round too.
( Maffers I flow kinda strange like Spina Bifida footprints, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 13:45, Reply)