Dirty crack
After living in halls for my first year at uni I needed somewhere to live next year so when I was asked if I wanted to live with a mate off my course, 2 of his mates from back home and some other random guy called Joe, heck I said yes!
It started out quite okay, sort of. Everyone else seemed capable of washing their plates and pans after eating food, but not Joe, ohhhh no he was special. So special in fact that he figured that he didn't need to wash anything up so his crap would stay on the side in the kitchen and gather mould and start smelling something rotten until I got sick of the mess and cleaned it up.
After a while everyone got a bit lazy taking out the bin so I made a bin rota which brought happiness because order was restored and there where no arguments, apart from Joe. Because he is such an idle bastard he didn't seem capable of taking the bin out on his day and when he did he just took the full bin bag out of the bin and left it in the back yard, or in the boiler room* for them to get nice and hot and smell fucking rotten!

And this one is a corker, one day we ran out of toilet paper but this didn't bother him, he told us how it felt like a clean shite so he just whipped up his kegs and went about his day.

From time to time also he would play shite music really loud using my CD system in the living room at stupid times day and night which meant we got a letter from the council saying there was a complaint about the noise and our house was being watched (I have 2 three foot speakers and a CD stack system that would not fit in my shitty small room so I put it in there for everyone to enjoy) so that makes him a twat as well. We took the fuse out of the plug in the end, that stunned him for a bit.

He had some friends over to play poker one night and moved the dinner table into the centre of the living room only to not move it back for about a 5 days after and also leaving about 20 empty beer cans all over the floor with various other pieces of rubbish which I cleaned up in the end managing to fill an entire frigging bin bag with, oh yeah he also left the table covered in his poker crap as well so no one could use it, arse crack.

For some unknown reason as well all the bills for the house are in his name, which means we have to rely on him to open the bills (not actually all that hard) and perhaps inform us that there is a bill that needs to be paid. But no, he doesn't quite seem to have the ability to open them so I have now taken to opening his post after we have had about 3 letters telling us that we are going to have the bailiffs round if we don't pay up within the next 4 days and shizzle like that.

Basically this guy just does not have any life skills, and furthermore I can't for the life of me figure out how he has a girlfriend, it cant be for his ability to use buy toilet paper and not be such an inept fucktard that's for sure, I hear she is ugly though so alls well that ends well!

*I should explain that the boiler room is actually about 5 steps that go between the kitchen door and the back door to the outside of the house.
(Rt Hon Quargflax, Mon 9 Apr 2007, 1:12, Reply)