Housemate's friends from hell
In the year after I left the madhouse below, I lived with six much nicer people. One of these was a final year art student called Lucy. To celebrate her end of year/end of degree show, she invited 15 of her friends down from Romford to see her artwork and stay in our house.

Big mistake. The friends arrive in the afternoon and are 15 skinheaded, tracksuited, lairy, Essex chavs. I go out for the evening to a friend's party and this is the one time I don't have a clue where my key is, so I don't lock my door.

I come back with another housemate at about 2am and find Lucy sat on the stairs crying. The 15 chav types have trashed the entire house, except for the locked rooms. They have nicked DVDs, PS2 games and passports and thrown everything up in the air. My posters were all pulled down, and the missing stuff eventually reappeared in Lucy's knicker drawer.

Meanwhile the chavs are at Lucy's friend's house doing the exact same thing. When they return, nearer 3am, waving cans of Stella and demanding to be let in, Lucy goes outside and tells the whole of Canterbury exactly what she thinks of them. The words "fuck" and "cunt" made up most of the conversation, and she doesn't remember exactly what she said from that day to this. She has also never spoken to any of them again.
( Maladicta, Thu 5 Apr 2007, 19:32, Reply)