The Case of the Ever Present Pants
Another one that occurs to me was a friend of mine at uni. We shared a house and he had the downstairs front bedroom - I'm guessing it was where the lounge used to be when it was a proper house instead of a student let. Anyway, for the entire year a pair of red y-fronts could be seen on his window ledge by anyone walking past outside. To this day he swears that he wore and washed them regularly and he was just putting them there to dry every week - but I maintain they did not move.

I digress though. The real story about that house is the female housemate who moved her boyfriend in and then got herself pregnant. He was an arrogant cnut - technically had a job but never seemed to go in to work - got the sack for stealing eventually - instead of buying stuff for his impending child, he spent all his money on PS2 games.

To top it all off, they couldn't afford much food, so were limited in the amount of meat and fresh veg he could buy - fair enough, there's no shame in being poor. However, when you have limited amounts of fresh food and a pregnant girlfriend, I'd say it just wasn't cricket to keep all the best food for yourself and leave said pregnant girlfriend to eat just dry pasta. As luck would have it, the baby was not born deformed thank God - but was very small.

Anyway, most of the other male housemates were intimidated by him. Odd, as the guy with the pants in his window is 6'7 and about 20 stone, but was still intimidated by him.

I'm not small either, being about 6'1" and fairly stocky. One time, the arrogant boyfriend was shouting his mouth off at the pregnant g/f and my g/f (a wee lass of 5') stepped in and gave him a piece of her mind. I swear he looked like he'd hit my g/f, so I was about to grab him by the neck and pound him to a pulp.

There was no need for me to worry though - my g/f shouted him down to the extent that we all ended up a bit scared of her (I still am, after 5 years together!) - seriously, you have never heard anyone bellow and yell as loudly as she did, and there was never more gratifying sight than a 6' bully-boy being brow-beaten and shouted down by a wee slip of a girl.

He fled the scene in ignomy shortly after.
(Seance Trumpet has got no beef with a man enjoying a croissant, Sat 7 Apr 2007, 14:57, Reply)