Filth Police
My boyfriend, back at uni, lived with about 6 lads in a knock through back-to-back terrace on a dodgy, dirty road in Bradford.

The washer and drier (rarely used) were in the centre of the through lounge to kitchen. Piles of yellow, damp books and tangled wires decorated the floor, the bits of carpet you could see were actually furry with fluff and cig ends.

One of his housemates had taken a load of wet laundry out of the washer and been too lazy to put it in the drier (right next to it), so had dumped it next to the dining table (which was piled high with crap also). Over time it accumulated more dirty clothes and sometimes flies.

One of the lads got mugged by a couple of local scum, right on his own doorstep (NEVER live in Bradford) The rozzers were called and went into his lounge for a statement. Pencil scribbling, one of the coppers looks up and screams like a girl (and he was a bloke). He actually jumps with fear. Housemate asks him what's up and he replies:

"Two rats as big as cats just ran out from that pile of clothes and into the kitchen!"

Housemates reply? Shock? Grabs the Yellow Pages for Rentokill's number?

No.

"Oh yeah. They live in the sofa".

Boyfriend moved out a few days later.
(Northern Lovely, Tue 10 Apr 2007, 10:10, Reply)