The Jizz Master
Just to keep things confidential, let’s give this guy a made up name, um, let’s call him Kevin.

Kevin was 26 and lived in a flat filled with 19 year olds. He was a short, stocky, hairy, profusely sweaty chap whose sexual urges and desires far outweighed his ability to fulfill them in the normal time honored tradition of shagging girls. This led to some rather aberrant behavior. Let’s move through the list shall we?

1. Caught masturbating on the upstairs landing while listening to our girlfriends chat in the downstairs lounge. On two different occasions.
2. Describing to said girls the color of their underwear while they leaned forward to grab their drinks.
3. Consistently winning the household trophy for the longest shower in the history of masturbation.
4. Having a constantly wet mattress (he had the only video player in the house and we used to have to go into his room to watch movies)
5. ‘Jizzumriffic’ scented room.
6. Caught sleeping, sucking his index and middle fingers with his ear pressed up against the door of my bedroom after a night spent listening to me and my missus shag. He got a kick in the stomach for that one.
7. There was a little young Asian chap who would come round from time to time…
8. Describing his experiences of ‘circle-jerking’ when he was twelve.

Other non sexually orientated weirdness from Jizz master K…

1. Wearing tiny little stubby shorts, sitting in the middle of the lounge and eating mandarin oranges, but instead of eating the whole mandarin he would eat swallow the juice and spit the mashed up rind into a plastic bag, noisily, in front of anyone.
2. Once not making it up the stairs to the toilet in time to realize he needed more bog paper, falling down on the stairs and screaming until someone fetched him some.
3. Having a hissy fit when anyone ever touched his food, which was odd because he was…
4. …an avowed Marxist. I thought they were all about sharing everything until no one has anything except the guy at the top? I hate you filthy commies.

In the same flat there was a guy called Dinky. Dinky was a young Maori boy, quite skinny and prone to, um, we believe it was schizophrenia. One day some fool company gave him a credit card. He went on a drug binge. He was dancing around the lounge, singing about Jesus and waving a decent size knife or two. We tried to get him to put the knives down, but he didn’t and instead proceeded to run into the city. He was eventually found dancing in a convenience store, with said knifes. The police set about him with dogs, which savaged him, and then they beat the living shit out of him. When some mail eventually did come for him, it turned out his name really was Dinky.

On the other hand, once I lived with a guy who managed to grow five enormous (6foot plus high) cannabis plants in our backyard. I remember harvest day fondly, and not much more of the next few weeks after that.
(feature_wall, Thu 12 Apr 2007, 6:55, Reply)