Another roommate story...
...though I suppose you guys call them "flatmates." Anyway, I roomed with this guy for a little over a year, who said that he did not believe in soap or deodorant. He said that human beings weren't made to spread chemicals all over their bodies, yet he would consume cigarettes and liquor in moderate to copious amounts. The deodorant thing wasn't too big a deal because I didn't really hang out with him that often and, suprisingly, he didn't really even stink that bad. But when he cooked!

Well, this one time in particular, I awoke on my day off and went into the kitchen for breakfast. What I saw there blew my mind. First of all, there were several jars -- mayonaise jars, pickle jars -- hanging by rope from one of the cabinets. These jars were spread with an indistinguishable white glue-like goo which was also dripping from them. The goo was spread all over the kitchen and the whole house smelled like charcoal and flour. Discovering the oven was still on, I peeked inside, to find a shrivelled, blackened little loaf, smoking and reeking. The story I heard from him later was this: he was trying to make a pound cake. He had somehow gotten it into his mind that a pound cake required a pound of butter, a pound of flour, et cetera, which was the reason for the jars -- make-shift scales. He had worked on this project for hours and popped the terrible cake into the oven, only to go to bed ten minutes later, forgetting the whole horrid mess until I came upon it half a day later. During the whole time we lived together, I can't recall eating anything he cooked.
(BrainSurgerysFun, Fri 23 Mar 2007, 19:21, Reply)