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This is a question Housemates from hell

What was your worst flat share experience? Tell us, for we want to know.

(, Thu 5 Apr 2007, 18:22)
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STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!
I used to be a promising footballer in my teens, until a knee injury cut short my career.

I shared a house with Wayne Rooney and had to leave after my nan visited one weekend and he scuttled her over the bannisters in full view of the landlady.

Still, nan made 80 quid and bought me fish and chips which was lovely.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 16:54, Reply)
I lived with the kellogs cock
He would always rudely wake me up
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 16:45, Reply)
Ham Butties?
EEEEWWWWWWWW!
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 16:32, Reply)
Ham Butties?
My little sister used to rent a room in Seven Sisters with an assortment of weirdos, one particularly lovely "lady", was convinced that someone was stealing her ham (slices of) Whether this was true or not I think pales into insignificance when you consider her retalliation was to wipe the remaining pieces on her front bottom, presumably for consumption later...

Lovely stuff...

She was also a particularly large and sweaty beast I might add.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 16:18, Reply)
Thief!
In my halls food goes missing. A lot. We're not just talking a bit of milk or a slice of ham, we're talking someone stealing multiple pasties or pizzas from the fridge. Eventually we found out from a girl that there's a big gayer downstairs who steals people's food because for some reason he has a special key that can get into other people's pantries. Next time he steals a pasty from me, he'll be greeted with something nice. I'm thinking maybe a "syrup of Ipecac"-flavoured filling, or razorblades.

My flatmate Tim next door is ginger and plays loud music (mostly indie) at 4 in the morning with his mates (who are wankers) while pissed out of his face. Last time he did that, we knocked on his door and he requested that we "Come and have a dance". Not 4 hours before I've got to get up for my lecture, mate. In the morning he doesn't seem to remember doing these things...
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 15:50, Reply)
Fond memories
When I was a strodent I shared a house with four other guys and a girl (who officially didn't live there but actually did quite a lot of the time much to the chagrin of others). Our flat was bad to start with and got quickly worse thanks to having no clean dishes after the first week (the enitre contents being balanced delicately on the 'coffee table' in our front room along with every glass and mug in the house and an array of beer cans). Mostly people ate out of pans and drank out of measuring jugs and the like.

One of our flatmates was a touch unstable (the night he spent charging out into the street with a knife every time he heard a noise and threatening to stab one of our flatmates springs to mind). The unstable one would live on cheese and tuna toasties. Our scouse flatmate would live on ready meals (five for a pound in ASDA), apart from once when he tried to deep fry chips in a milk pan with obvious results.

Given that nothing was ever cleaned and the bin was only emptied when the pile of mouldy food on top of it was basically at its critical limit the kitchen was not particularly hygenic. As a result our nutrient deprived scouse flatmate caught a strain of gut rot so serious that Evironmental Health had to come out and check our water supply. At which point they also realised we had rats. It transpired that the reason for my scouse flatmate's debilitating dose of the shits (it lasted for about two weeks, he also had to stay in hospital for a while) was mouldy cheese and tuna. This increased tensions somewhat. Also one of the downstairs toilets was blocked so our scouse flatmate was constantly in the only avaiable shitter, which stank.

This is but one occurence. There were many others. By the end of our tenure we had stalagtites on the walls resulting from wet garlic bread fights, also knife holes. A large hole in a plasterboard wall resulting from us kicking a hole in the wall when drunk. The hole was filled, expertly in our view (but not our landlord's) by a dirty pizza box. And an obscene mural depicting our welsh friend engaging in familial relations with a sheep drawn on our kitchen wall in green stablio marker.

The year after this I moved out. Everyone else decided that they got along just fine really and moved in again.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 15:36, Reply)
Steve
was a terrifying 6'4" nutter who drank cheap cider all day every day, had a large collection of Nazi memorabilia, and would wake the household daily before 7am with a mixture of Henry Rollins and a £2.99 tape of marching bagpipe choons he'd bought from Woolworth's.
I once pinched 4 slices of bread out of his portion of kitchen cupboard. The next day, every bit of food I had in the house had had a picture of a human eye cut out from a magazine sellotaped to it, accompanied with various renderings of the word 'GUILTY' scrawled in red biro on little scraps of brown envelope paper.
Could never quite tell if his laugh had any mirth in it, or was just intended to be menacing.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 15:35, Reply)
5 years of shared housing...
five years in shared accomodation... what was I thinking, granted three years were uni but still. here's just a few classic stories.

housemate in second year of uni - weird woman, kept to her room nearly all the time, the rest of the time who knows. had this weird thing for pinching the food off the plate i was eating off with her heavily bitten and often sore fingers. said she was veggie, so when it was a plate of turkey bolognaise she took a bit with meat on, realised what was on it and flicked it back to the middle of the plate. she took a whole handful out of a gateau in the fridge as well once...

third year uni. - housemate and then missus were notorious for having noisy sex, (putting it bluntly she had a pair of lungs on her) often they were so noisy people outside would be egging them on.

last house i lived in...
disgusting bastards, shared a house with four others. two of whom didnt understand the word cleaning, toked copious amounts of dope and had dodgy mates round at all hours. one was a drug bore beyond all reckoning. one housemate left two weeks into me being there cos someone shat all over the bathroom, basically everywhere but the toilet from what he was saying, another left because of dodgy mates shouting their mouths off at all hours whilst pilled up. the kitchen was a permanent mess with an oven so coated in burnt food and grease on the bottom it was unrecognisable and more than likely uncleanable, any efforts to clean reverted back to its original state within an hour and there were rubbish bags in the living room for three months as well as a mini landfill in the back garden near enough... still wondering why i stayed for seven months... oh yeah. couldnt afford much else.

can't really mention my very good mate who wanked in his housemate's milk for treating him like a skivvy, ...
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 15:25, Reply)
Actually from Hell
I shared a flat with Satan. Only he was calling himself Lucifer at the time in an attempt to remain inconspicuous. He wasn't that bad really, though there was a smell of brimstone whenever he was around, and he liked to play with matches.

His favourite TV show? Teletubbies. He got them all on DVD and would sit there for hours with tears of pleasure in his eyes and a cup of mint tea beside him. OK, he slept upside down on a charred cross and he only ate raw mice ... and he pushed old women in front of cars sometimes, but he was an OK guy. He bought me a Zippo lighter for my birthday and invited Marylin Monroe up from Hell (yes, I didn't know either) for a lapdance. We had some laughs.

He had to go back to Hell when his holiday was over and I missed him. The next guy was some Nazarene chap - a bloody vegan god-botherer. All he ate was fish and wine, but only went shopping the once. Weird.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 15:25, Reply)
Soapy bastards.
I shared a flat with my best mate and his girlfriend in Crystal Palace. I went away to Mexico for 2 weeks and got back to find the bath filled with filthy washing up, cum stained knickers on the living room floor and a half eaten old pizza with fag butts stubbed out into it. The kitchen was full of leaking bin liners and the smell was overwhelming. Made Mexico City seem like Cornwell. The worse thing was the fact that they could not have bathed for at least a week either of them.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 14:53, Reply)
Where to begin...
Having had the pleasure, or disfortune, of having had quite a few different housemates in my time in London, there are a few that stick out;

Living in a 3 bed flat in Camberwell with 4 slightly crazy Australians - M & L who shared a room were brother and sister (and personally I think that sharing a bed with your sibling for 2+ years is a bit disturbing in itself) and M (male) had a thing for looking at gay porn on my laptop... The poor guy didn't realize that there was such a thing as "history" on explorer or that when someone opened media player then interestingly titled clips would come on before our selected file... He would deny any claim that he might in fact be gay, despite the porn, having strange men over when his sister was out of town, and jumping up and down in excitement when he went to bake cookies or cheesecake at his friend's house... Then there was L (the sister) who was your typically tom-boy Aussie chick who worked at the Oval and would steal booze, money and have sex with her black (because she only wanted black men..) boyfriend in the Oval kitchen. And then come home and tell us all about how sore she was and how it almost poked her intestines.

The other two were fairly normal aside from N who would walk around the flat in his, white, boxers with skid marks & happily displaying the day's morning glory.

N & his roommate D went on a bus tour of Europe for 3 months and found some weird guy to take their room whilst they were gone, but he ended up leaving early as he was missing his gf in the US so M&L found a couple to take the room for a couple of months and then us splitting the extra rent as the other guy had paid for the whole time (not very nice, I know) - without telling N&D. So in move a lovely Scottish guy and his psycho bulimic girlfriend. Seriously, she didn't work, didn't do anything around the house, constantly nagged & whinged, ate like a horse then ran off to the bathroom to puke and it would stink for hours. The poor guy had to do everything & hold down a job to support her eating habits.

Finally there was the neighbour from hell who we had the pleasure of living next to in Streatham (so pretty much a housemate considering how close we were...) - he must have been in his late 60s early 70s and had long dreadlocked hair to his waist, a leopard's skin hanging off a tree in the garden (complete with head, paws etc) and a penchant for playing insanely loud gangster rap from 2 - 5 am, whilst singing along at the top of his voice. We once knocked on his door to ask him to turn it down, and the stench of weed that escaped when he opened the door was terrible.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 14:37, Reply)
porked
I first moved out of home and in with some boys from my australian rules team. A high level of practical jokery such as cutting the arse out of peoples fave tracksuit pants went on continually. I was left alone until the long weekend in july when the housemates all went home to visit their olds. I invited my parents over for a pork roast. That morning I couldnt find the roast and presumed someone had knocked it off and had to get another which was a dud. Several days later I was lying in front of my telly watching my favourite, the wide world of sports and continually gagged at an offensive smell which seemed to be emanating from my telly. After several hours and in sheer desperation I grabbed a screwdriver and began removing the back, It was one of those old wooden cabinet tellys my nana had given me. Yes those bastards had put my pork roast in the back of my telly.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 14:07, Reply)
little princess
We recently got rid of a housemate (call her H) who although not from hell was certainly not the easiest person to get along with.

We knew that she had plans to travel sometime this year, probably around May or June which is when we were supposed to renew our contract anyway so all's good there. However, at the beginning of January I got a text from a friend of mine in London asking if H was moving out in a week's time. I said I wasn't aware of it, so my friend pointed me towards an ad on the gumtree website advertising a room for rent in a week, along with H's name and phone number. At the time a friend of hers (miserable cow...H's one token female friend) was staying with us "for a few days" and it suddenly dawned on me that H planned to move out without telling us and give her room to this other girl. Luckily the reason my friend was on gumtree was that she was looking to move down to Brighton, so much to H's chagrin we moved my friend in, kicked her friend out, and did it with a song in our hearts.

Plenty of stories could be told about her pettiness, about how she argued with literally everyone who didn't treat her like a princess (all her friends locally were blokes who had either slept with her or wanted to), constant complaints about noise (when I say noise, I mean like doors being closed, not even slammed, at about 12 at night), trying to play me and the other male housemate off against each other (when in fact we got on really well and couldn't stand her)...but I think her moving out story illustrates just what a little princess she was.

sorry this hasn't been the most extreme story ever, but I felt the need to vent just a bit. extreme story will come later.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 13:54, Reply)
self torture of the highest order!!
I was 18, she was sixteen.
she had been with my besterest mateyest mate for six months, but it had broken down and now we were free to get it on, with his blessing I might add.
For two years we had an on off on relationship that, due to factors beyond our control was always doomed.
Fast forward to the age of 25 (im 28 now so you do the maths) and I need somewhere to live having broken up with an absolute MENTALLIST girlfriend who was the sister of my other best mates wife howfuckedupisthateheheh?

She has a spare room, and shall be called Vicki in this story, because that is her name.

I moved in with her.
And her fiance.
Who is a copper, and a massive twat who shows her no respect or affection and generally treats her like shit.
I realise Im still carrying the teeniest tinyest of torches for her and spend the next six months shagging owt that moves to compensate for my heart wrenching situation.
It was hell.
And sometimes it keeps me up at night as she is now living in london with him and he wont let her have any friends and this is making me sad now so bye bye!
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 13:49, Reply)
Moved to Stockport a few years back from Saddleworth.
The bloke who owned the house was ok but a bit dim (I can't believe they speak German in Austria).
One female housemate was about 20 stone, said she could drink anyone under the table but was legless after one glass of wine, Blackadder style. She also had a habit of leaving a ridiculous amount of "mess" in the toilet when she'd finished. Ordered a Chinese Banquet for 4 for herself most Sundays. Brought a bloke home with her one evening & I asked if it was her brother as they looked similar. Turned out it was her boyfriend.
Another housemate looked like Butch the bulldog from The Sooty Show & once blocked the toliet with a whole bog roll.
Great Days....
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 13:38, Reply)
hippy [email protected]
Some time ago I allowed a hippyish guy from work to move in. He seemed alright at the time, smoked weed, took class A drugs and drank a lot, as did I, so all seemed cool.

Except I’m sure he faked a robbery to pay drug debts, windows smashed but no glass inside, no footmarks on the window sill they supposedly got in through, etc, etc. “The robbers” also walked past two Technics decks + amp + speakers that were his, upstairs to my room and stripped it of a CD player + amp + speakers, call me suspicious but……

That was bad, but the insurance coughed up and I got a brand spanking new hi fi out of it so lesson learnt but no great harm.

However he also had the horrible habit of falling asleep anywhere when he had consumed red wine and weed. The most unforgettable time was when I was upstairs on the phone, my other mate came running up in a state. Apparently he had been sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa on which hippy Chris was asleep when he suddenly heard dripping water. The hippy had been pissing himself, the piss had been collecting in the base of the sofa until it overflowed and began pouring out, onto the tray I kept to skin up on, the dirty get had not only soaked my entire sofa through with piss, he’d ruined half an ounce of finest weed, call me fussy but I wasn’t waiting for that to dry out again.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 13:30, Reply)
Oh the joy....
Having been to two different universities I had the fortune to live in 2 sets of halls, and a few different shared houses...

Now where to startnot so much a house mate from hell but certainly a very interesting fella I shared with in 1998 in Halls in London. Socially inept, but all being new I tried to get him to tag along when we went out on the lash... and to be involved with what ever we were doing.... but it was for some time later that we found out his reason for lack of social abilities.. now this lad was a good 6ft tall, and skinny as a rake, ugly as hell... crap at his studies - but it wasn't just that.. he did smell a tad, but it was the fat he used to be 25 odd stone!!! he'd grown through puberty as a leper... poor fella... never relaly liked him though havent heard from him since... In those halls we made the interesting discovery also that the greek guy who didnt speak a word of english and chain smoked had a gun, we werent sure if it was here or in greece, but it was somewhat lucky we got on...

Now jump forward a few years, and I'm in the midlands... and we get to meet another collection of misfits... although more so this time I think they'd just thrown us all together as some form of experiment. One lad a total stoner would get violent at night, and very forgetful...

One night he took a disliking to one of the communal shower doors with a 12inch kitchen knife, and chair...

He also decided that a deep fat frier was the ideal cooking tool for a very cronic stoner... once leaving it on all night... luckilly we didnt all die... then another time leaving it unplugged but on the electric stove which was.

His first time away from home one lad was introduced to the perils of smoking too by said friend... from geeky if slightly slow virgin to paranoid heavy smoking drop out geeky virgin... apparantly he actually had some form of breakdown and went to another uni far away.

Now the last guy from this flat was just wrong soo soo wrong...
Also a social miss fit asain lad from Glasgow, he was about 5'2 who held asperations to becomea body builder... only he didnt like the excercise part.. or rather his excercise regieme was 5 minutes once a month with some dumbells or what ever they are called... he was also nocurnal and only really ate those protein body building potions... Poor lad had a thing for prostitues - I cant imagine he'd have returned for a second year... he did smell a really strange musty type of smell even though he did shower...

Now sorry for the length... but this final lad I can't give too many details as it would be too obvious who he is... but weird and strange really did seem to attract...

a mate and I teamed up as were slightly older to look for a 2 bedroomed place that wasnt too studenty and we'd be able to keep respectable...

we hunted but nothing was within our price range, or rather being a tight wad geordy nothing came close to his 150 a month rent limit...

So we ended up looking on notice boards and found a chap that was looking to share... he turns up, he seems okish... we take him out on the piss... to get to know him... although I had my concerns in a sea of cider my judgement slipped and we welcommed into our seach...

the first few weeks go by and alls fine, he is slightly weird in a wear the same clothes for weeks on a time, has aspirations to drop his computer course for which he only has the ability to sign up for a yahoo email account... drinks whilst chewing his mug endless quantities of tea... and survives on bacon sandwiches... he mumbles to him self constantly and has paranoia (he never would explain that)... he got drunk and had one of his eye brows shaved off.. so he decides the logical thing is to shave off the other...

Then to make matters worse I go away for a week to find my internet connection has been severed to my room, and hes stuffed paper in the sockets... just because I didnt pay the bill!!! the ejit....

oh he also used to get scared if anyone had and argument and regulalry ran off in tears...

I feel slightly guilty typing this.. as although not perfect, perhaps I was the flatmate from hell afterall!!!

Never share with Geordies or Scitzo strangers.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 13:27, Reply)
mad psycho bitch
i used to live with a giant (6'8") a dawrf (4'1") and a mad psycho bitch (usual height).
it all started out swimmingly with everyone getting along until m.p.b. started sleeping in beds that weren't hers. mine one night, the dwarfs the next. it was a mission to try and wake her up and get her to sleep in her own queen sized luxury 400 thread count bed. she never explained what made her do it.

then the hysterical fits started. flailing about and screaming obscenities at anyone within a 12 mile radius.
then the throwing of dog faeces at all the windows. from the inside.
then the suicide attempt after someone dared ask her how her day went. and just a wee tip for the very young, hanging yourself from the garage rafters by jumping off a motorcycle helmet sitting on the ground isn't really far enough to do much more than make the rest of the flat laugh at your ineptitude. unsuppoting of us i know, but we couldn't help it.

after she broke every singlke plate cup glass bowl and two windows, we called her mother to come drag her away and we got a restraining order agianst her as she kept on breaking into the house.

when we moved, she followed us, and we had to get another order against her. her excuse for being able to find us was that she once went to a phychic who told her that someone she loved would live exactly two doors down from where the reading was. i tend to think it more likely she waited across the street with her headlights off and then proceeded to follow us to our new place. but i could be wrong.

a year later we start getting emails with pics of her naked with cats.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 13:03, Reply)
Sesame Street
I once shared a flat with a selection of characters from Sesame Street. Maybe you think that they're puppets from the workshop of Frank Oz, but in fact they are all real creatures that have managed to live with their freakish nature by becoming children's TV characters. And I can tell you, they're not as nice as you'd think.

Big Bird would sit there in his favourite seat smoking roll-ups and farting. If you changed the channel he'd go ballistic and start a rant of profanities that would make a seaman blush. He was yellow because of the nicotine and the sulphurous fart gas.

Bert and Ernie were sodomites of the first order, bumming each other pretty much all the time. You'd go in the bathroom and see Bert's little velcro arse going like a rabbit into Ernie's knot as they rutted senselessly. They both walked bowlegged.

The Count, of course, had OCD and you'd wake up in the night with him counting the follicles on your head or measuring your flaccid tool for one of his graphs. He was also into kiddie porn and had two hard disks stashed with young boys bending over to pick up a boiled sweet.

Worst of all was Elmo, the ginger cnut. His red fur was matted with spunk most of the time from his ceaselss wanking. Every opporunity he got, he'd whip out his hairy tool and jizz all over the furniture and himself. He reeked like a ripe brie in a dead beggar's pocket.

All true.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 13:00, Reply)
Not exactly from hell unless....
....stayed in a house with six other blokes in Preston.

Awoken from my slumber by a fierce argument between two of them.

Awoken again two hours later by one of the participants playing his trumpet (tune unspecified) stark bollock naked outside the other participants door.

Uncle John. Legend.

Back on topic I took in a lodger and after sending her packing for being an idle layabout, when I cleared her room I found under the bed in a bag soiled (use imagination) under clobber. That lacy sort that will act as a sieve for solids over a certain diameter for the engineeringly inclined. Not pleasant.

That will be all. Nothing further to see here.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 12:58, Reply)
Filthy dirty twat fucks
Names aren't changed - its just that I can't fcking remember them.
Having served in HM Forces, and having managed to escape with some dignity, there are some dirty, filthy fuckers who cause mayhem and disbelief for others who try to keep on top of things and don't get royally fucked with a charge due to skankyness.
Some students are nasty fckers, but jesus, you would think that a simple remit for entry into HM Forces is an assessment on whether or not you can keep yourself and your kit clean.

Theres one dirty, useless wanker who I won't forget, and I hope he has been booted out, dishonourable discharge style, and spent a good few months in the glasshouse.
Big bloater of a wanker, thought himself to be a 'hard lad' and was always boasting about the shags he got when he was home.... Yeah yeah yeah we would sigh....
But, his body odour and habits were, well, so fucked up even the Duty Discip who caught him out one day couldn't believe it....
This tosser would wear the thick, black woollen / nylon socks. You know the sort, you can't deny it. The type that reek of cheese and all things abominable after half an hour of wearing them.
And he had a special pair. That he never washed. And the stink from him was something, dear reader, I never, ever want to inhale again. Imagine the most disgusting odour imaginable - old mans diahorrea, stale sick, cat litter contents, sewage farms on a hot, still day and a tramps undercrackers after he has pissed himself a good few times and let it dry out.
That was the stench we was presented with when we arrived back from weekend leave.
And, not forgetting his shorts, that doubled as underwear, and had the biggest shit stain streaked up the back you can ever imagine.

We therefore decided to humiliate this complete wanker, and donned NBC gear, and managed to purloin the socks and shorts, and hang them up over a pipe in the front foyer area of the barrack block for all to see.
Including the Duty Discip, doing the normal Sunday evening rounds when most are back on unit, and who was a old timer - RAF Regiment Sargeant.

Obviously, fuck wit tried to remove them, but to no avail, but the Discip did. And then read the name tags. And did the fuckwit admit to being a disgusting, dirty little shit when confronted? Nope. Not his. Nothing to do with him. "SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING WITH YOUR NAME IN THEM YOU NASTY LITTLE MAN? GET THE FUCK INTO YOUR PT KIT AND GET OUTSIDE NOW!" is the cry - heard as far away as Weston Super Mare itself, a good 10 mile away!
Cue then a beasting to the Station Fire Hangar, and indeed, he got a good hose down and put on a charge for having conduct prejudicial to good order and discipline, and being slapped with 3 days jankers!
Even that didn't stop him though, and remained, a stinky dirty twat, and I was most happy when I fcked off.

Students? You've not seen shit unless you've been in the forces!

Apologies for length? Not a chance. If you can take the girth, you can take the length!
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 12:10, Reply)
Porn nazi
I shared a house with a lovely character called Lee (for that was his name). Lee had three loves in his life. First was the English. Second was the Nazis. This caused him great anguish when he was reminded that not only were the Nazis foreign, but they had also bombed much of his beloved Ingerland.

His third love was porn. He loved it so much that we could frequently hear the creaky bed sounds of him wanking throughout the house.

I once went up to his room. I'm sure a psychologist could have written a whole book on it. Lovingly taped to the wall were pictures of the leading Nazis, and beside them were pictures he had ripped out of porn mags.

He was actually doing quite well at Uni, as he was stydying modern German history and thus got to write lots about the Third Reich.

Length? - I don't care.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 12:06, Reply)
notting hell
also had the misfortune to rent a room from a coffin-dodging old witch just off the portobello road. amazing location, beautiful room with stripped floors and its own roof terrace.

but i was only allowed in the kitchen until 7pm then it was off limits - and believe me, you don't know what hell is until you've had to scrub the bath free of old lady leg stubble before you can get in it.

i lasted 6 weeks.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 11:44, Reply)
Housemates from Hell
This one is just grim, I moved into a house shared by total strangers. My room was upstairs with three others. Two of them were occupied by two lads in their early twenties, drug dealers and thicker than two short planks, cut in half and nailed together!

The boys had nasty habits, too much booze, too many pills and too much smoke. This would result in them becoming extremely aggressive and lets not mention the overly loud Eminen at four in the morning.

As time went by they got worse until the night of the big fight. The fat ugly thick one had a pop at the thin ugly thick one. The thin ugly thick one locked himself in his room and started to cry. The fat ugly thick hammered on his door screaming obscenities until four in the morning.

What freaked me out is when the fat ugly thick one suddenly declared that he intended to make a real man out of the thin ugly thick one, by raping him! I bolted my door and put my chair under the handle.

After a serious complaint to the landlady all went quiet for two weeks. Then they got very high and the fat ugly thick one pulled a knife on the thin ugly thick one. The Police were finally called and it took three of then to restrain the fat ugly thick twat. He spent a night in the cells and was evicted by the land lady. The thin ugly twat lasted another three weeks before she threw him out for vandalism.

How we laughed...
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 10:09, Reply)
Damnit
My current housemate is female, blonde, swedish, gorgeous and...nice!

I've had it up to here with her! Always leaving her underwear around the house and flashing me after a shower.

I'm looking for a new place...
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 9:55, Reply)
Overlook Hotel aka 245 Wood Street
Four happy go lucky uni buddies move in, including one couple (me and now ex).
Six months later, relationship has broken down, she's gone psycho, I've gone psycho, other two are staying away as much as possible.
One ends up going back to her folks cos she can't stand it anymore.
A sucicidal sister of a 'friend' (someone met at a party) moves in to REALLY shake things up.
Everyone ends up hating each other, and it takes about a year for everything to blow over before people start talking to each other again.

Well, there's that, or my old flatmate who would take an hour to have a shit. That's a bit more B3ta...
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 9:16, Reply)
chris the army reservist pyromaniac.
I once made a hasty decision on a housemate and ignored all the important lessons I'd learned in previous houses. We will call this housemate Chris, because that is his real name. Chris, if you're reading this, FUCK OFF.

My brilliant housemate Angela was moving out with her abusive boyfriend. Chris was mates with the abuser, but I was foolishly thinking with my wallet and so I said said, "Sure. He seems fine. Nice and quiet." Bad, bad move.

Chris turned out to be a part-time army reservist and security guard, along with all that entails (gun loony, incredibly stupid, liked blowing shit up). He had something very wrong with his body odour; I'm not exaggerating when I saw he smelled like a rubbish tip and I could tell when he had taken off his shoes even if I was in the other end of the house.

He was also a pyromaniac. I'm no snitch, but if anyone wants to know who started a bushfire out in Creswick a few years ago, ask Chris.

His diet revolved around cheap processed cheese. The only things he knew how to 'cook' (put in the microwave or under the griller) were nasty nachos using spaghetti sauce and this shit he called "pizza", which was a slice of bread, the aforementioned spaghetti sauce and a slice of that individually wrapped plastic cheese. As a consequence, he had persistent yellow stains in the corners of his mouth.

He also had an incredibly annoying habit of trying to copy pictures of large breasted women from superhero comic books while watching the telly. It was like outsider art, but inside my house.

When I finally managed to move out, he was super dodgy with the final rent, bills etc. Then he insisted that I owed him money. I went through the math with him and eventually he moved on. Or so I thought. Visiting the town about five years later, I ran into Angela. Trying to contain her laughter, she told me she ran into Chris and he wanted to take me to small claims court. Over $60. Five years afterwards.

PS Just before I left, I let a stray cat into Chris' room and locked it in. It did liquid shit in two spots, including on his bed. I then blamed him for leaving his window open.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 8:51, Reply)
The most
annoying person I ever lived with would, without fail, ask the same question every week about this time, "Is it thursday yet?"

Never could figure out why.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 8:48, Reply)
My former flatmate
Slept with my girlfriend.

And my other former flatmate and former best mate sided with him because they'd arranged to move in together after we all moved out.

On the scale of sheer betrayal and humiliation, I think I might win this one.
(, Wed 11 Apr 2007, 5:21, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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