Roommate Horror Stories - Because we've all had that one roommate

[0 0]

I've never had anything worth complaining over but I have a friend I knew for a while who was out working on his undergrad degree, but we kept in touch. The thing to note about him is he's very nice, but if you give him a reason to then he will absolutely despise you to the point of forming a vendetta. The first thing he brings up while in his new dorm is how annoying his roommate is and says he thinks something is wrong with him. When I asked what he meant, he responded with "he never doesn't make noise." When he walks around during the day, he sings incessantly. When he thinks he's got "privacy" in the shower, he sings even louder. Almost on a schedule, he would go into a coughing fit around the same time at night almost ritualistically (and would occasionally continue well into the night). He also apparently clogged the communal toilet very frequently and never cleaned it up (for some reason the plunger is only allowed for janitorial staff but they're available 24/7 and the number for them was on the door to the bathroom so all you had to do was anonymously call).

Save for the clogged toilets, I've gotten irrefutable proof of each and every one of those complaints. Just over the call (through multiple calls that were on varying times of the day throughout his time there) he would pause and say "just listen." I would hear his roommate singing offkey, or screech-singing in the shower, whistling tunelessly, or hacking up a lung at night. Then my friend would say "every day" and we'd go back to talking. Apparently at one point, my friend even asked him if he had classes since he never saw him out of the dorm. He responded by saying he does, but he goes when he feels like. Apparently his roommate was completely unaware of my friend's very obvious dislike of him, as he would walk up and engage in inane or unwarranted conversations about nothing. For instance, one time during a call, my friend tells me to hold on and he gives a very weary "yes...?" I overhear his roommate, quite clearly, explaining his favorite Pokemon was Pidgey and then some explanation as to why. My friend responds with a very flat "alright," and goes back to talking as his roommate returns to his daily singing.

He was stuck with his roommate for two semesters, and I know this because usually the first thing I'd ask is "did housing kick that guy out yet?" The response, unfortunately, was always a very dejected "no." Thankfully his roommate disappeared into the godless ether he came from. Unfortunately he was replaced with another roommate who apparently argued with his girlfriend very frequently. I never overheard while we were talking, but my friend was determined to prove it to me. Through sheer coincidence, the very argument he decides to record just to prove to me that his roommate argues all the time, his roommate hits his girlfriend audibly, along with the sound of her recoiling from the hit. Understatement of the century, his girlfriend yells back "that is NOT okay!" While he was out of luck with his last roommate, he said that was enough to get his newest one removed from the housing.

Thankfully his housing situation has improved pretty drastically since these two experiences.

 

[Broseph Stalin]

I'm currently living in a situation that will hopefully be resolved soon, but I figured I'd post it now and write about the conclusion later since it's shaping up to be a story of its own.


I currently live with two girls and one guy. One of the girls, let's call her Renae, is a high school friend of mine. We get along quite well. After high school she got into some drug dealing shit for a stint and turned over a new leaf. She also dealt with a heroin addiction that took a toll on her.
Then there's Marie, Renae's best friend. Tiny as fuck, but she's pretty chill and loves to cook. A little cringey because she keeps asserting that she's "Yandere as fuck". Marie is the youngest of this band of misfits (22 years old). As cringey as she sounds, this story barely involves her but other stories might.
Finally, there's Keith, who is a bouncer at a local strip club. Keith is former military, an ex-con, and has zero aspirations in life outside of banging tweakers, strippers, and bartenders and getting paid to beat the shit out of troublemakers. Keith is 29 years old and the oldest.

So, things were going pretty swell. I've been living with them since August. We had a rough start at first, but things evened out after some sit-downs and being communicative with each other. But now, in mid-November, shit is starting to deteriorate. The main cause of this?

Keith.

Now Keith and I, we get along fairly well. I always stood up for him at times, but now it's starting to get harder and harder to defend him.
Keith isn't on the lease due to being an ex-con needing a place to stay. Renae only knew him as an acquaintance but met him on FetLife ("LOL HOLY FUCKING SHIT BROSEPH, ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!" Yes, I'm serious). She assured me that things would be alright with him not being on the lease since she assumed we'd all get along. Well, Keith was late on his rent the first month, which was kind of understandable given he was still getting some shit together. Then he was late again. And again. And probably going to be late again if he stays with us, but I'll get to that later. Shit started to further deteriorate when Keith wouldn't pitch in for groceries, but will eat a third of the groceries we buy in a span of two to three days and keep most of the dishes in his room. I get that everything in the fridge without a name on it is fair game, but holy fucking Odin on rollerblades does it get annoying as fuck. It's gotten to the point where Renae, Mel, and I are having to hide our snacks in our rooms just so Keith doesn't eat them. Not only that, but he constantly bums or steals cigarettes from everyone in the apartment.
He leaves the lights on all the damn time without thinking of the electric bill.
When he was dating one of the strippers at his work, he gave her his fucking apartment key despite knowing her for only a couple of weeks.
He also bought a car that didn't work and kept saying he was going to fix that shit. Well, it wound up getting towed because he neglected to move it and management thought it was an abandoned vehicle.
Keith also has a cat. There's nothing wrong with the cat, it's just that Keith doesn't clean the fucking litterbox. Instead he'll change the litter completely after one use and then complain that he can't afford the litter. Oh, and Keith also got another cat that he found one day and insisted he was going to give it to either his then girlfriend at the time or his mom, but I guess that shit didn't work out since the cat is still with us. No matter how many times Renae and Mel get onto him, Keith doesn't change. Even I tried a few times, but with no results.

Well, the breaking point is a combination of all that, plus the major catalyst that sparked it. As mentioned before, Renae overcame heroin addiction. She doesn't mind if people smoke pot or do hallucinogens in the house, just no hard drugs. Well...Keith thought it'd be a good idea to do a line of two of cocaine with a friend. He came home acting totally different, and in the bad way. Renae had an abusive ex who did cocaine, so understandably she was VERY uncomfortable with this. At first I thought she was probably being paranoid, since I didn't think Keith was the kind of guy that did cocaine. Of course, I started to come around when Renae told me that she's seen that behavior before with her ex. We had a sit-down with him that went seemingly smooth. But did he see the error of his ways, decide to give up drugs, and make something of himself?

Yes. Keith turned over a new leaf and became one of the most successful businessmen in the city selling quality--lolnope.

He turned to crystal meth next. Not only that, but he has become very reckless with his finances to the point where he could barely pay this past rent and got us stuck with a $52 late fee that I wound up having to pay. Renae at this point is tired of his shit and ordered him to find a place by month's end. I'm really hoping she has a couple of big ass basketball-Americans thugs on standby, because so far it seems like he's barely made an effort to leave, and not only that we can't exactly go to management about it since he's not on the lease. (Yeaaaah, I'm gonna harp on Renae for that one in the coming days when he's hopefully out) He's gotten lazier, neglects his cats, and doesn't change the litterbox to the point where -- as of writing this -- the house has a strong ass smell of ammonia. I'm seriously hoping he's out by the end of the month because at this point, I'm done covering for his ass.


P.S. If any Kiwis can give me eviction advice and tactics, that'd be pretty sick, chill, &/or realistic.

 

[PorcupineTree]

My ex who lost her job for pulling a knife on someone at work was also my roommate.

Lived with a camgirl at the same time. She started this job after we moved in together. She also started selling her used panties on Craigslist with my ex.

The next year I moved in with a girl who was involved with some kind of drug trade. I found out after we got robbed.

I recently left that town and live with some people who have been incredibly normal so far. It’s great.

 

[Damocles_Sword]

No roomate stories, but a friend of mine is a landlord and I have a few rental house cleaning stories.

First house I cleaned was a section 8. Huge panic, as the place was being rented by an illegal through a DV shelter, and she got deported. Had some cartel boyfriend or son. So they ask me to bring my Thompson, just in case. She had a dog. My landlord friend was okay with pets at this property, as the property had a decent fenced-in back yard. The closest that dog ever came to that yard was the screened in patio. Had that rough green faux-grass flooring. I didn't think that shit could squish when you stepped on it, I was wrong. Spent about 8 hours with a rug doctor to get that place into enough shape that the carpet could be replaced. He did the smart thing and put down linoleum.

Second house was rented out to a couple with a few kids. No pets allowed. They had bunnies and a dog. And a weeb girl. Who was the cleanest of the bunch, as her room was the only one that was rabbit poo free. Weeb was obviously either a girl or trap because of the thousands of dollars worth of hair care product (From glorious nippon, naturally) boxes strewn about, and the disturbingly well drawn Inu Yasha and Hetalia yaoi STAPLED TO THE WALL. Girl probably makes megabux off of DA, as everything was incredibly on-model. I ended up with some of her top-end art supplies. Also had an adult or teenage hoarder, as I had to push one of the bedroom doors open and almost got crushed with a hoard to rival the great snorlax's. Mostly high school notes, rabbit poo, pepsi glasses, dog poo, vidya posters, rabbit poo,garbage, dog poo, dirty dishes, rabbit poo, toys, and, rabbit poo.

One of the rabbits had chewed through the power cord for the cable box, and someone taped it back together with scotch tape. They tore the hand rail for the stairs off the wall and tried to re-mount it. Funny side note, this was my friend's favorite rental properties. He's also deathly afraid of rabbits. He now has to live with the knowledge that a rabbit's butthole has been on EVERY surface of that house.

 

[ADN_VIII]

I don't know if roommate really applies since I live in a shelter so I guess bunkmate will have to do.


I'm bottom bunk, because I'm a bit heavier than I would like to be, and the guy above me has the worst personal hygiene I've ever seen in person. For starters, he showers exactly once a week. Fridays, to be specific. His bedding is changed once every two weeks, also on Friday. I've never seen him change his clothes. He's about 5 inches taller than I am, and his feet hang over the end of the cold war era bunk. What happens when you don't wash your clothes regularly? They smell. The foul stench coming down from his bunk onto mine actually got me a one day suspension from the shelter because I cussed him out over not being able to be in my bunk unless I was about to pass out because of the ass stench rolling off him.

Fortunately he's out on a 5 day suspension because he failed a breathalyzer test so I'm trying to get him moved to another bunk.

 

[Coldgrip]

P.S. If any Kiwis can give me eviction advice and tactics, that'd be pretty sick, chill, &/or realistic.

Move his shit out when he isn't there. Doesn't matter if you're chucking it into a pile near a dumpster or out a window, get rid of his shit and change the locks.

I don't need to tell you the shit that follows meth users but the sooner you get that fucker out of your life the better.

 

[ADN_VIII]

Move his shit out when he isn't there. Doesn't matter if you're chucking it into a pile near a dumpster or out a window, get rid of his shit and change the locks.

I don't need to tell you the shit that follows meth users but the sooner you get that fucker out of your life the better.

If he's in America what you're describing is illegal eviction. You gotta do it right by filing for it.

 

[Buck Mullet]

I'm gonna make multiple posts about one ex-roomate over time, there are so many. Let's call him "Brad".

I'd known Brad since age 13. We were loose pals, and went through some shit together that tightened our friendship and circle of friends. He could be a real asshole, kind of a bigger guy who would get drunk and start shit. But usually our group knew he went through some shit, and gave him a pass. More than once we would confide in each other that it felt like walking on eggshells around Brad.

Fast forward to when we were both 21. I had moved out of the parents house, then back due to reasons. Hated it, felt like a loser, so when Brad mentioned that the dudes he was staying with had an unoccupied room, I jumped at the opportunity to move in. I knew it meant having to deal with loud music and drunks sometimes, But it beat living with mom and dad. So I moved into the front room of the house, with only a blanket strung across the wide entryway as a door. Again, dumbass, poor 21 year old here.

I come home from work one night, around 11pm. Brad and a few other guys are sitting around in the living room watching TV in an uncomfortable silence. There was definitely palatable tension in the room. I quickly realized why. There was a dog barking incessantly. Brad had just acquired a puppy. An adorable Doberman mix. The puppy was placed on a set of steps 3 high. They used to further lead up to a 2nd story, but it had been renovated into a separate apartment, and this entry was now walled off. The poor puppy was barking and whining because he was too small and afraid to get down.

I ask why the puppy is placed there and Brad answers that he is being punished for going potty in the house. Ok... well I say, that's probably not doing any good. Puppies take time to paper train, be patient. Now I just got home, and don't want to listen to your dog bark non-stop. And going out on a limb here, but neither does anyone else, so I'm just going to let the dog down, alright?

You would have thought I just called his mother a whore. He rips into me, threatening to fight me if I do so. I no-sell his bullshit, and ask the other guys there, do you really want to listen to this shit? They meekly shrug and shake their heads, scared of fighting Brad I guess.

Now Brad and I got into a schoolyard scuffle back in the day. Not really a fight where anybody won or lost, but i'd taken his punch before and was no worse for wear. I knew he was volatile but to show no fear, he was being a bully. He was bigger and stronger than these other guys, and they did not know him as personally. I told him do what you gotta do, but i'm letting your fucking puppy down. And I did. He tried to intimidate and talk shit, and of course I was the asshole for touching his dog.

The tension in the room broke a little, but Brad continually gave me the stink eye while I hung out. After a bit I wanted to remove myself from the situation so said goodnight, and went to bed. As soon as my light went out I hear Brad suggest they go downstairs in the basement and have an impromptu shitty punk rock jam session. Had all night while I was at work to do so, but Brad just had to be a dick and get in a final fuck you. He paid as much rent as me and again, knew going in I might have to deal with loud music, but not out spite.

And the next day he was all chummy and acted like nothing happened.

There is so much more... and this was nothing. It gets much, much worse.

 

[Coldgrip]

If he's in America what you're describing is illegal eviction. You gotta do it right by filing for it.

He said he wasn't on the lease.

And that's why you dump his shit someplace else. Illegal, maybe. But that or a meth-head? I'll take my chances with the law.

 

[Exceptionally Exceptional]

I used to live with a guy who was just fucking horrid. He spent all day screaming at video games. Like, fucking constantly raging out at Dark Souls or Dishonored. We're not talking an occasional raised voice swear here, it was a non-stop stream of shrieking expletives like you'd expect from a spoiled brat. I often wondered why the fuck he even played video games when they caused him nothing but anger, he legit didn't seem to be enjoying himself at all. What's worse is if you said ANYTHING about it he'd get instantly butthurt and accuse you of trying to "humiliate" him. How the fuck do you humiliate someone with so little dignity as to constantly scream "Motherfuckermotherfuckermotherfucker!" at a screen loud enough for the fucking neighbors to hear?

What's worse is he was kind of a sociopath. He'd do shit to annoy me constantly on purpose and find the fact that I was getting pissed off funny. For example; when we'd smoke some pot he'd do whatever he could to piss me off and harsh my high. Like childishly stick his finger in my face or poke my cheek and laugh like a fucking retard despite my repeatedly telling him to knock it the fuck off until one day I got so sick of it I literally grabbed and bent his finger back to just about breaking point. Then he acted like a total victim despite the fact that I warned him repeatedly that if he continued to do that shit I'd fucking hurt him.

He also liked to torment animals. Grabbing my cat and sticking his fat face in it's face and make annoying sounds while it squirmed and tried to escape, which he found amusing. After repeatedly telling him to stop torturing my cat I actually told him if he ever touched my cat again at all I'd get my .357 out of storage and plaster his brains across the wall. Last I heard he had adopted a kitten which now absolutely hates him and avoids him like the plague because he keeps doing shit like that to him.

He also got incredibly pissed off whenever my girlfriend came to visit and would bitch and moan whenever we demonstrated the least bit of affection for each other because the guy was a total loser and couldn't get a girl to be anywhere near him for any prolonged period of time.

He never cleaned more than picking up shit and vacuuming. He wouldn't dust, wouldn't mop, wouldn't wipe down anything. Left to his own devices he'd turn the bathroom into a disgusting petri dish of filth. He also had a juvenile habit of punching holes in walls whenever he got mad.

Seriously disgusting human being. Glad he's no longer in my life.

 

[TandySmile]

In Uni, I had to live with two other people in a two person room. For reference, 1 and 3 are beds, with 1 being the bunk bed. 2, 4, and 5 are desks. I had the luxury of sleeping on the top bunk. The dude below me will be named Alex.

Alex was gross. He would wear this green sweatshirt everyday without fail, and he stunk. From people who knew him, I was told that he would masturbate with us asleep in the room. Number 4 was his desk. I was never told whether he did it in his bed or at the desk. Alex would leave the next semester.

 

[AnOminous]

I can nowhere remotely compete with some of you people's (YOU PEOPLE'S) roommate stories at least in college other than one of my college roommates was utterly obsessed with Into the Woods and would incessantly play Stephen Sondheim songs day and night and fuck (amazingly) girls, keeping me awake at night.

 

[CastrationFrustration]

Roommate would bring his girlfriend over for the weekend and take three hour long showers with her, either in the morning when we'd all wake up and need to take our first leak of the day, or at night when we needed the bathroom for stuff like brushing our teeth. There was more than one occasion where our toileting options were to either take a piss by the back porch or drive down to the local gas station to use their bathroom. Otherwise he wasn't necessarily a bad roommate or even a bad roommate in general, he kept the sex quiet and I honestly don't think I ever actually fully heard him giving his girlfriend the McBangBang sandwich. But the shower situation was ridiculous.

He eventually got kicked out (or just left of his own accord, not sure on the official story) when the dude we were renting from (who lived upstairs) tried asking for more money with no notice, claiming the electric was sky high and he could no longer afford the bill. (The original agreement, at least the one I had signed, stated that the cost of the electric was factored into the rent we were paying. So it made no sense that our "landlord" was haggling us for $200-$300 each, especially when Landlord went to go buy a few hundred dollars worth of fireworks within that same week.) We also didn't have that much stuff to the point where we'd be fucking with the electric costs. A laptop or a small TV wasn't what was making the electric bill soar sky high. (It was Landlord's own negligence that was fucking with the electric costs but it's not an important detail to the story.)

Roommate must have called Landlord out on his bullshit, because they got into an hours long screaming match to the point that Landlord kept knocking and trying to lure Roommate out of his room to scream at him some more. As annoying as the hours long showers situation was for me and my bladder, I did feel bad for Roommate, as apparently he was friends with Landlord prior to renting from him, and it was awful witnessing the rapid dissolution of a friendship in real time.

Eventually, Landlord's behavior became increasingly worse, unhinged really. It got to the point I would have rather dealt with Roommate's marathon showers instead. Calling the police on Landlord one night for his unhinged, psychotic bullshit was the shit icing on the shit cake that had me out within a month.

 

[Cougar Pump]

Two spring to mind. After a few years I proritized having my own place because Fuck Housemates. So there's only a few stories really.

Second year of university, sausage fest shared house with four dudes. One is a tall ginger guy, Pete. Same archetype as Cobes and fancies himself some kind of goth/metal bad boy but actually just kinda soft and autismal. Parents were big into jesus and this is his rebellion I guess. Spends most of his time cooped up in his room playing Civ on an under-specced free PC the university gave him because he's legit a bit of a sped who needs some support. House is this cramped terrace student shithole with an absurdly steep staircase in the middle and a maximum number of bedrooms crammed in with a tiny bathroom and kitchen wedged in for good measure/code compliance but hey, cheap rent.

One morning I'm coming back home through the front door and as I open it with a few bags of shopping Pete is at the top of the staircase, not paying enough attention, and he slips on the top step and tumbles down the stairs. I get him up and it's a bloody horror show for some reason. Sit him down, check him out, find he's got massive, deep lacerations across his eyebrows that are bleeding heavily. Deep enough that I can see white bone at the back every time I wipe enough blood away. Can't immediately work out what caused it, but I do my best to stem the bleeding and get him stable by applying pressure. Turns out, after carefully growing them out he'd spent the morning filing his nails down to sharp points, and in tumbling down the stairs had raked them across his face and wedged them into his eyebrows.

Last year of university, final semester, with all the pressure of exams and dissertations everyone's pretty tense. Shared house of six people, one of whom is a guy 'Simon' that another housemate vouched in after someone else backed out last minute. Simon can't hack the pressure of his final year, and so spends his days in his room chain smoking and losing his grip on reality. Eventually, any time someone walks down the hallway outside his room they hear Simon following them with finger taps along the wall muttering to himself and cackling. From almost anywhere in the house you frequently hear Simon erupt on nonsensical bipolar rants on almost any topic at any hour of the day or night. It eventually gets so bad, we have to go to his tutors and get his final year put on hold, and call his parents to come pick him up and hopefully get him some treatment. We clear out his room and it's a grotty horde with a computer desk several inches deep in cigarrette ash. Turns out instead of working on his dissertation he'd been writing (and seemingly not sending) nonsensical job applications to Nintendo, Sony, and Microsoft. Lots of pages of mental ramblings about being the ruler of the world and repeated statements about 'boop boop spirals'. Last I heard the friend that vouched for him visited him at his parents' house over a year later and when he got there Simon was on the roof in only his underwear screaming at passing birds. The parents apparently blamed us for getting his studies put on hold and say there's nothing wrong with him.

Somewhat randomly through stories reaching friends of friends and turning into a bit of a running joke, one of the nightclubs in the city ended up with a poster/flyer campaign featuring a cartoon caricature of Simon and the title of 'Up All Night Talking Shite'. It ran for a few years, and only a few people knew the story behind it.

Housemate stories always make me think of the story of Shay. Not sure anyone can top that one.

Edit: Bonus anecdote: When we moved into one of the shared houses my room was a little attic box room. It was clean and tidy, but fallen down the back of the cupboard I discovered some of the previous year's occupant's belongings. Specifically: An envelope containing all of their personal identification (second generation import Pakistani). A prescription for hyperhidrosis (excessive sweating). A 100 page rhyme book filled with the absolute worst, cringiest bars you can ever imagine anyone coming up with. I cannot think of worse things to accidentally leave behind. I did that dude a solid and, after laughing about them for a while, burned them all.

 

[Dysnomia]

Living with my sister was the absolute worst. She had a drug problem and she and her boyfriend stole from me and pretty much destroyed my life for several years. I lost my stepfather's house because she had zero income and I couldn't pay all the bills myself plus buy food and necessities. It was in a really nice neighborhood too. I ended up homeless and living in a hotel for a bit. Now I'm back in the ghetto I came from. But the really bad stuff aside, she was disgusting.

She left dishes in the sink, would open cans of food and take a little bit out then leave the rest on the counter overnight. My aunt gave me all these canned goods and my sister wasted them by opening things, using a bit and leaving them out. I never got to use any of them and I was really struggling with food insecurity at the time. So in the morning I had to toss out the remainder. I had to hide food from the boyfriend, who would devour everything in sight. Oh and he had a puking problem due to withdrawal (also a druggie) and bad eating habits. So he'd puke up the bathroom real bad and I'd have to clean it several times a day. I was cleaning the kitchen several times a day too. I had to put newspaper on the counter because of an endless march of Kool Aid making with sugar and Kool Aid powder all over the counter. Eventually I went on strike with the dish washing because I was sick of washing piles of dishes. That did not work out.

I waited like a week and she just kept piling dishes. It got worse and worse. There was mold. I had to do a massive sink cleaning. But it worked out for the best because I decided to throw away every dish and utensil save for a few that I liked using myself. I wasn't gonna clean mold dishes anyway. And pretty much every dish and utensil that we had was already in the sink. I also found a lot of missing dishes and utensils around the house underneath stuff. In the trash they went. Then my sister was like "Where's all the dishes?"

I bought a bunch of paper and styrofoam and told her that was it because I wasn't going to do a sink full of dishes multiple times a day. I felt so free only having my and the dog's dishes to do.

She was pretty much living off my change and hounding me for cigarette money. When I told her I couldn't afford to buy her cigarettes she said "well you have savings right?".

This was at a time when I was in the red from paying bills and actually owed the bank money. Eventually the boyfriend started to demand money from me. He was crashing there not paying a dime and expected money and bus tokens. So when I told him no stuff started disappearing. Cops were zero help as always. But he got some epic karma. He let some friend rent a car in his name and the friend fucked off to New York without telling him and never returned to car to a rental center. Dumbass had no carfare and I sure as hell wasn't giving it to him. He had to walk to the airport to speak with people and concoct his story. It's quite a hike. He reported it as stolen. I saw him out there in the driveway lying to cops. I wish I had had some evidence to get his ass locked up.

But don't worry because he got his. Some time later he dropped his wallet somewhere. He found it but all the cards and money were gone. Too bad. So sad.

Also, my sister started hoarding and destroyed the house. I couldn't clean fast enough to keep up. When I tried to throw stuff out she'd complain and have a fit. Note that most of it wasn't new stuff since she had no money. It was old stuff she wouldn't get rid of or put away properly. When I donated items no one had used in years she freaked out. Plus there was trash and wrappers everywhere and her boyfriend tore the finished basement apart looking for his phone charger. He emptied out anything with stuff in it. It was awful.

 

[Jason Wynn]

I have a few…

College dorm roommate. Guy named Wade. Personal hygiene was a completely foreign concept to Wade. He’d shower like once a week but I don’t think he used any soap or shampoo or deodorant because he’d still reek after taking one. Never saw him wash his clothes or his bedding, not once. Dude’s nasty ass shirts were so filthy they looked like the rags your dad would use in the garage to mop up spills after working with his tools. Anything Wade touched would leave a greasy smear behind. The entire room smelled like a horrifying concoction of rancid body odor, Hot Pocket grease and swamp ass (literal shit. I don’t think he even wiped himself after using the bathroom) finally got the RA involved and after being horrified himself at the Nurgle stench our room had become, booted Wade and set me up with a much better roomie.

A few years later I had my own place. My brother and his girlfriend were trying to save money to get their own place. I offered to let them stay with me rent free for a few months as long as they helped with little shit like keeping the place clean, not to be too loud at night, we all take turns making dinner etc. shit like that. That was never an issue. What was an issue was how much of fucking pig my brother’s girlfriend was. She wasn’t even a giant fatshit whale, a little chubby at best but Christ you’d think she had never eaten in her life before. Whatever food and snacks they bought for themselves she’d now through like nothing. My brother you could tell was annoyed but since it wasn’t my food or my relationship I stayed out of it.

What got me pissed off is when she would inhale all their food and then poke around in my refrigerator and take my food and drinks without asking me first if she could have them. First time it happened I was annoyed but whatever mistakes happen she didn’t know. I would put stuff away marked with my name on them to either eat later or take with me to work for lunch and when I’d go to grab them out of the fridge they’d always be gone. My brother cooked a ham for dinner once and this gross pig no shit ate half the god damn ham by herself in a single sitting, along with several helpings of mashed potatoes, stuffing and veggies while my brother and I only had two slices of ham each and a single serving of each side.

The final straw was when I had just got home from working a 14 hour shift and all I wanted was my leftover Chinese food and my beer (hadn’t had a lunch all day and I was ravenous) of course they’re gone. I called my brother, told him if his fat fucking pig of a girlfriend can’t keep her dirty hooves off other people’s food she can get the fuck out and find somewhere else to go. She heard everything I said because was on speaker and started blubbering. Brother took her side, they both moved out and that pig put a strain on my relationship with my brother for some time after before we talked shit out

 

[Yeeted Teet]

One of my first housemates frequently played flamenco guitar along to Insane Clown Posse at 7am and would keep restarting the same song over and over and over again every time he messed up. He also didn't just steal food, but ripped the packages open in the middle like an ape peeling fruit so they couldn't be resealed.