The German Invasion
Well, hardly an invasion, as there was only one of him. But what he lacked in numbers, he made up in... well, annoyingnesslessness thing.

Three of us moved into a shared house. Two chaps who a friend of mine assured me were good guys, and me. Those two were mostly OK, but we needed a fourth person. We managed to get the landlord to only charge three-quarters of the rent while we advertised. Had I been able to see into the future, I'd have left it there. But no, we went for it.

And we got M--r-ce the German. He was doing a module in the UK, and he came to our Uni. And ended up sharing with us.

Where to begin? Oh yeah, with the watermeloning washing up. Which he never did, having servants back home or something. He mainly lived off Pepsi and takeaway pizza, or sometimes just bread with tomato ketchup on it. No, really. But he'd never wash up, or clean up. We made sculptures with the pizza boxes and cans... then gave up and binned them ourselves when we reached the ceiling. Twice.

One weekend, the three of us all went away. M managed to use every last moleste pot, pan, plate, knife, fork, spoon, the lot. He even made Angel Delight in my cafetiere. The git. We dumped it all in his bed. Then, three days later, we got it all out again and sorted it out because we were hungry, dammit!

Then there was the drinking. OK, we were students, so drinking enough to poison a small county was expected. But we're mainly nice drunks. Me, for instance, I tend to slowly melt into a small giggling heap on the floor, before falling asleep (and snoring hideously, according to Mrs. God). Not our M, oh no. He almost broke my arm the once, he threw glasses at people, and once bodily chucked someone out of a window. A car window. Luckily we were parked at some traffic lights...

Then, luckily, he went home for a holiday. "Yaay!" we thought, and relaxed...

Then he came back. Apparently, he'd gone round to his fiancee's place, to surprise her. And he had. And the bloke she'd been in bed with. There'd probably been some kind of altercation.

He turns up, heartbroken. He still ate like a tramp and smashed stuff, but his heart wasn't in it. Such a shame. So he did what any normal man would do (apparently) and invited some hideously ugly blonde slapper from home to stay for a week. She looked as if she'd been seriously worked over with the ugly stick. And the mental stick. She stayed in the living room 24/7, and wouldn't let anyone except M in there. Great. Two moleste months later, her week's holiday finished, and she pissed off back to Germany. "Yaay!", we thought. "Only one mental German to deal with!"

Luckily, dear reader, term ended, and after the brief unpleasantness of exams, we were good.

(And I threw the cafetiere away. I mean, there was simply no need for that at all, was there?)

No apologies for length. Mrs. God's quite glad of it.
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Fri 6 Apr 2007, 21:16, Reply)