Dear Flatmates.
You are all fucking pigs. How you can stand to live like this and not give a shit astounds me. I can only put it down to the fact that you're all so used to having Mummy/Daddy/the maid picking up after you at home that you still haven't realised even after five months of uni that dishes do not magically clean themselves.
Even the pious, self righteous twat that keeps putting up rude, passive agressive notes, I know who you are and half the crap in that shitpile is yours. Get over yourself.
I am so fucking glad I'm not living with you next year, if it's this bad WITH cleaners, I don't even want to know what it'll be like without.
Pick up your shit, wash your dishes, and for fucks sake please stop having screaming sex during exams. I know I can be pretty loud, but I really don't need to hear you shrieking like a fucking banshee all night before the hardest exam I have to sit.
I hope you all get food poisoning from the death trap you like to call a kitchen.
Loves
(Applebite Uh! A cow!, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 18:48, Reply)