Jim
Long time lurker, first time poster. Probably off topic, but here we go.

I was at a rural university in Victoria, in Australia, smack bang in the middle of the La Trobe Valley (this where most of the electricity for the state comes from). Fun times they were. I lived on campus and had the dubious honour of being vice president of all those who lived on campus of which there were nearly 400. This was in 1991. I was the organiser of all social functions, which basically meant that my unit had free beer, as I was corrupt and took beer with every order I did. As a result I was fairly well known on campus amongst the drinkers. And I couldn't do too much without people knowing what I and my housemates were up to. Lucky for some, unlucky for others.

Anyways, every Wednesday night there was a function – a 'do' in the local language. A toga party no less. My housemates and I decided not to go, but a new arrival did. I'll call him Jim, as that was his name. He was a large lad, from a small country town closer to the coast that we were. He was a strange fellow, kept night hours and was generally a pain in the arse and didn't fit in with our Yeah beer! Boo authority! Thing we had going.

As I said we stayed in drinking beer while Jim went to the do. I was impressing a young lass with my ability to drink beer, and once she had enough I walked her back to her unit. No hide the sausage for me, so I came back to my unit. It was late, past 1 AM, and cold as it was winter. I came around the corner and saw a lump of white sitting on the steps to our unit. It was Jim. I said 'are you OK?', the mumbled reply indicated that he was. So I kept going. I stepped over him, and managed to give him a knee to the side of the head while climbing over him, and off to bed I went.

I had an early class the next morning, so got up and proceeded to the bathroom. I did notice some footprints coming from the bathroom. They got less prominent the further up the hall they went, meaning that they came from the bathroom. I said to myself 'that's a funny colour of mud' and continued into the bathroom. I followed the footsteps into the toilet, pushed open the door to find shit on the floor, in front of the toilet and also shit coloured finger scrapes going down either wall (and on closer inspection, the inside of the door too).

I went out of the toilet into the hallway where I said, 'that's fucked'. A housemate came out and said 'what are you complaining about you helped make the mess' to which I told him to have a look in the toilet. He came out and said the same thing. We decided to go and have a go at Jim, who we suspected was the culprit.

Down the corridor we went, and opened Jim's door to be confronted by a shit miasma. We backed away and went in again. I gave Jim a spray about being a pig and told him to clean the mess up. He got up and did, I went to class. (I have a photo of the after effect on the lino, but couldn't figure out how to load it, if someone tells me, I'll do it!)

Later I came back and Jim was sitting around as usual doing nothing, so I gave him another burst about being a pig. Jim had to throw out his mattress as it was covered in shit, and put the bedding into the wash. This being a Thursday, we were all going home, so left and thought nothing else of it.

Came back Sunday night. Another housemate and I noticed the washing machine was on. Open up and see the bedding from Jim's bed still in there from Thursday. We got a plastic bag, bagged the stinking mess up and threw it in the bin. Jim now had no mattress, and no bedding. I doubt any human could have slept in the bedding. These were supplied by the university. Meaning he had to explain where they went. Of course we let the management know what had happened and sat back and waited for the action.

The head of campus students came over and gave Jim a rev, made him sign a note that he wouldn't drink any more, made him (or his parents) pay for the bedding, and told him to start attending classes and keep more regular hours. I can understand how Jim went off the rails, as I discovered the joys of drugs in my first year (straight out of a private all boys grammar school), and almost fucked my academic life up. But at least I never shat the bed when I was stoned off my chops.

Jim settled down after that and eventually decided to move to another unit to be closer to his brother (I think his name was James – they were country folk). This meant a swap where one of our mates came into the house which suited all. However, Jim continued his strange ways. We had a mate with one arm – he lost the other to cancer – and he was in the same house as Jim. He was a nice bloke and wouldn't hurt a fly. He used to go to bed, and wake to find drawings that Jim had done on the table. Not much he thought, as he leafed through them. Until they started to change to pictures of a large chap chasing a person with one arm with an axe.

Eventually the pictures started to become more gruesome with the one armed person with an axe in their head, back, and chopped up with a big bloke standing over them. He wasn't too worried, and let it go. But he did lock his door from then on.

Anyway, the rumour that Jim shat himself in the toilet, and bed, got out. It would be hard not to. He retorted by saying that we planted horse shit in the toilet to frame him and also in his bed. We were always too drunk and apathetic to plan something this intriguing. I saw it and it didn't look anything like horse shit, and I sometimes spend twice a day studying shit.

Some wit took it upon himself to name Jim, 'Jim the shitter'. And that was his name until he left that university some time later. It probably still is. He wasn't happy about it and moved off campus the next semester into a share house in a major town where last I heard he was paying far too much for rent.

I mentioned that Jim had a brother on campus too. He was a cunt, one night attempted to get to know the object of my desires, he didn't succeed, and didn't try it again. But after the shitting incident he was known from then on as 'Shitter's brother'.

Imaginative people we were.

Sorry about the length - it's a hot boring afternoon here in Melbourne.
(Snapper-head loves a twinky anytime but especially when it's, Fri 30 Jan 2009, 6:31, 1 reply)

Nice post.
As an aside, it is faaaar too fucking hot.

I'm sat here with a beer, in a bikini, and about to take yet another clothed cold shower to combat the shitness that is 44 degrees (it was 47 in my mate's car today so I figure my house might even be worse).
(Angie the Redneck Wonder, Fri 30 Jan 2009, 7:32, closed)