Real men
When a tenancy came to an end, I needed to find somewhere cheap and I ended up in a shared house. Two other new tenants moved in at the same time, both lads and both in the their twenties and these guys were very sweet, until they got into drink and drugs. Although they never really attacked anyone else, they had some bitter arguments between them, usually over who had taken all of the drugs and where could they score some more.

Following this event, the Landlady asked them to leave and looking back now it is quite funny, but at the time it was horrible.

Big fat lad got wasted and big thin lad missed out, so he had a screaming fit at big fat lad. Big fat lad became abusive and expressed himself through the medium of violence. Big thin lad ran to his room crying, followed by big fat lad who was screaming. The door slammed shut and was locked, but big fat lad was outside the door hammering upon it for all he was worth.

The final moment came just before the Police arrived when big fat lad suddenly declared to the whole house that if big thin lad kept crying like a girl, big fat lad would break down the door and rape him like a girl! It seems that big thin lad took him seriously and called the rozzas.

It was such a shame.

tldr: two twats got pissed, had fight, slight rape, Police came.
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Thu 19 Mar 2015, 16:34, Reply)

I lived with my childhood imaginary friend Pete for a while
It got sexual and so we had to find other places to stay.
( $$ ✅, Thu 19 Mar 2015, 15:22, 2 replies)

A Wasp from the Archives...
My shared house was a crumbling four floor Victorian relic in a provincial university town. Our front door was always open (the hinges were rusted through), so we had our share of waifs and strays come visit over the time we were there.

One of them, a fat and greasy sort of chap, Simon I think, was a regular. No one could remember who's mate he was, he'd kip on the couch for days at a time but he had a steady supply of decent weed, so his presence was tolerated.

His personal hygiene left a lot to be desired. Once he slept on the floor when the couch was occupied - despite the fact that the entire house had recently had a haircutting session and were yet to hoover up. 'The hair will be like a mattress', I recall him saying.

One dreary afternoon, four of five of us were sitting around smoking Si's weed. We had one of those water bongs where the weed was placed on a gauze and incinerated as the user inhaled the smoke through half a litre of dirty water. This method was very effective. Straight to the system. And pretty soon we were all wrecked.

Trouble with the above method is that the weed gets caned pretty damn quickly and Simon's stash was gone within 20 mins. 'What else is there to smoke?', he asked. Having gone through the ritual of trying banana skins and nutmeg etc in the first year, we were fresh out of ideas. But then Simon had a new one. He drifted over to the window-sill and came back with a perfectly preserved wasp corpse, held gingerly between his fingers. 'What about this?', he inquired, 'could be interesting'. We watched open mouthed as he placed the insect on the gauze and fired up his lighter.

The wasp crackled and burned instantly and Simon took a huge hit of blueish, dried-wasp smoke into his lungs. He held it indefinitely and then blew the same coloured smoke back at us. Then he jumped up and ran to the window, found two or three other carcasses, loaded them up and inhaled them too.

'Feeling anything?', we asked excitedly as we sat in astonished wonder, genuinely thinking that some kind of metamorphosis was about to occur. And something did happen! His skin took on an odd, green pallor and suddenly he barfed into his mouth. Cheeks full, he tied to choke back his sick and pretty much succeeded, albeit for the fair amount of drizzle that seeped between his hands.

But unfortunately he didn't turn into a wasp, nor did he take on any wasp-like characteristics. Which was a great shame. We didn't see him much after that. But the Wasp Man will live long in our memories.
( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Thu 19 Mar 2015, 14:31, 5 replies)

Natasha.
Where to begin? So some background. We’d known each other since we were 5 and we were ‘best mates’. She’d had a very troubled upbringing and taking lots of drugs in her teens didn’t help an already fragile mind. Over time she'd also developed an alcohol problem and was definitely not nice to be around when drunk. Anyway – fast forward some years, we were still friends and ended up sharing a flat.

It’s probably easier if I just list some incidents that spring to mind.

The no legged tramp.
Whilst out drunk one night, she came across a tramp with no legs in a wheelchair and decided to wheel him back to our flat. She bathed him and cut his hair (despite his protestations) and we found bits of his matted hair round the flat for weeks. He also left an oily stain on the sofa that never did go away.

Hammer time.
She was seeing a married man who was stringing her along claiming he was 'definitely going to leave his wife'. We could all see that this would never happen. She couldn’t. She finally flipped about it one night and after a blazing row with him and took a hammer to a car. Not his car…her car. And then she smashed the front room windows of the flat for good measure.

Acrobat
As I mentioned, she’d had a troubled upbringing and she was always looking for validation and attention. We’d had a few friends over and everyone was pretty merry. She wasn’t the centre of attention so ran off to her room. She came back dressed in a bikini and a raincoat and proceeded to do cartwheels through the living room....straight through a glass door and straight to A&E.

Pepper spray
I’m not entirely sure why she had pepper spray or where it came from, but one night after a few drinks she decided to try it out by spraying it in a room with closed windows.
Needless to say we were all puking and crying within minutes. That stuff is horrific. If that wasn’t bad enough – when we’d recovered she did it again ‘just to make sure’.

Pissing
I don’t know whether it was alcohol related or if she had a weak bladder, but she was forever pissing herself. In her bed, on the sofa and once on the kitchen floor.

Sleepovers
She joined the Socialist Workers Party and decided that when they were having national conventions in London - our flat was a great place for loads of out of town people to stay. Except she didn’t tell me or our other flatmate. She didn’t seem to understand that we’d be a bit annoyed waking up to 15 people in our living room furious at us for making noise in the morning (making a cup of tea).

Toffee cake
As I mentioned, she’d crave attention and do weird things to get it. She’d been out for the night and brought a couple of her male colleagues back. We were sitting round chatting and she obviously wasn’t getting the attention she wanted. So she went into the kitchen and got a Sara Lee Toffee cake out of the fridge, and proceeded to pull down her knickers and stuff the cake into her muff shouting 'I love cake'. What bothers me most about this whole thing is that one of the guys slept with her that night. Cakey cock.
(Nanny Pat vote for me, Thu 19 Mar 2015, 14:22, Reply)

Will there be a new one Today?
Only time will tell...
( spanishfly is so fucking sexy people impersonate him, Thu 19 Mar 2015, 11:53, 11 replies)

crazy housemate
I have this awful house mate. and have had a few before.

The current one has this awful clear smooth skin and a horrible pert bum and big tits. Every now and then i have to give her one. And get this...she buys me presents sometimes and even cooks my tea.

Before that I had these people who claimed to have made me. They gave me love and clothes and stuff. Very weird and a bit intense.

Oh, I just realised these are good things and probably what should happen. Unlucky all those who have lived with c**ts
(r0bm867, Thu 19 Mar 2015, 11:31, 14 replies)