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My second year of college was a nightmare combination of culture clash and asinine college dorm rules that would be selectively enforced.

When I was randomly assigned a roommate I didn't think anything of it. Meeting new and different people from different ways of life is part of the college experience. My roommate, Dave, was definitely NOT like me at all. He was from a upper-class gated community from the Chicago area. Dave was on the water-ski team, and had a slightly jock-like attitude and all his friends were the "dude-bro" types. When weather permitted he'd go to a local lake and waterski and ride the Jet ski he brought to college with him. This did not mesh well with my nerd hobbies, giant troll-like physique, and rural Iowa upbringing.

On the first day we moved in I thought it would work out. We put up the bed lofts, then went down to Dave's truck to unload his things. After moving all his possessions I was going to move my car around and carry my things up next. However, Dave NEVER showed up. I waited 15 minutes for him to help lift things, like he agreed to, just like I had done for him. I went up to our room and he was putting away his things. Dave used my absence to claim all the territory that was most convenient for himself, I just got the leftovers and had to put my belongings wherever was not taken up by his stuff.

This was actually worse than it sounds. Dave claimed the CENTER of the room. He got the bed next to the closet, next to the built-in desk, next to the built-in drawers, next to the power outlets, that would provide a fair amount of privacy. I got all the left-overs that basically formed a ring around the outside of the room. In order to get dressed in the morning I literally needed to cross the room, dodging his belongings, about a dozen times. My desk was unusable, as if I were to sit in the chair I'd be in his lane of traffic and need to get up to let him by every time he needed to move.

In the end I basically gave up. My "area" of our dorm devolved into the area directly under my lofted bed, which consisted of my recliner (which he forbade me from reclining because it blocked access to his computer), a small TV on a shelf sat 90 degrees to the right of the recliner, extra lighting I hung under the bed, and a self-made "storage cube" I created ( basically imagine a large wooden cube with a hinged top that can be used as a coffee table with storage inside, stained and varnished to a nice standard). The Cube was where I stashed my 40k army. Everywhere else was "his".

One of his friends worked at a Wal-Mart, so he was able to make several copies of the "DO NOT DUPLICATE" door keys we were issued. This way his friends could enter if he wasn't there to let them in. These guys would show up at all times of the day and night, regardless of whether Dave was there.

Dave was a night-owl that would commonly stumble in after 2 AM, often with some alcohol in him, shouting from our door all the way down the hall to his friends at the elevator. These were lengthy conversations, not simply "goodbye".

Since I was studying engineering I needed to take Trigonometry three days per week, that started at 5:45 AM, and was a mile walk from the dorm. One day I missed class and thought I'd forgotten to turn on my alarm. Turns out Dave liked sleeping in in the morning, and didn't like to be disturbed, so was turning my alarm off in the middle of the night.

Our Dorm had specific rules about drinking. In order to have alcohol in the rooms you could NOT be on a dry floor. Both roommates needed to be of legal age. We were none of those things. Violation of these rule would lead to eviction. This was actually enforced on a few people per year. One day I come home from class to find my Warhammer models outside my Cube, which confused me. I opened the cube to put them away, only to find a pony keg and several bottles of Tequila in there instead. Dave had wanted to throw a booze party in the dorm that weekend, since he knew I was going to be gone.

Another time I came home on an early evening to find Dave with a girl in the room. He bluntly let me know that she was staying the night and I'd need to find somewhere else to stay. I declined and sat down in my corner to watch TV.

 Frozocrone wrote:
My worst experiences are currently happening.

Had a neighbour living in halls that would constantly play his guitar halfway into the night and pretty much always bring his friends over. Said friends were potheads, always smoking weed and having to have the window open in the freezing temperatures because the smell seeped in from under the door was just unruly. The walls were pretty thin too, so everytime they did smoke pot, it was always accompanied by the groans of his female companion. Which would be fine, if they weren't so goddamn loud, possibly even louder during exam period. The rest of the floor was no better, constantly partying into the night when there are perfectly good nightclubs to use and always playing harmful pranks on each other. I think the nicest ones included sticking rubbish from the bin all over the walls and doors and moving someones bed into the communal showers.

My new flatmates aren't much better. We have one guy that never comes out of his room to socialize but will always bring his friends over and they'll be as loud as possible, again, female companion groans. Followed by an inevitable mess of a house when they left. The others I don't really get along with and I'm just counting down the days when I get to leave and go into my third year (with more bad housemates, no less).

Ahh, they don't tell you this when you go to university!

I may be wrong here but sex and pot smoking comes with the college life. My advice to you is don't live at a dorm unless you are ok with that.

I would suggest to you also that you find a girl during your school years like in college. Girls are fairly attractive and interested in relationships (or even sex) in college and depending where you work (I work at a factory with mostly guys and no women my age) you might have a much harder time with women once you aren't in school anymore.

 SlaveToDorkness wrote:
::Sits and waits in anticipation of Buttery Commissar's inevitably disturbing post::

There are some areas of my life untouched by lunacy, I'll have you know.

...Alright.
I may have to stagger these stories.

#1
When I was 19, I first lived in Nottingham mixed sex student dorms. My first roomie was a young black girl who modelled her lifestyle on Amy Winehouse (pre, post and during death, as far as I can tell). She spent all of her student loans on booze and crack. Actual crack.
Occasionally she would pass out and leave her television looping the DVD intro screens for 18+ hours.
One day I noticed a real stench building from her room, and fearing she had died, called the staff over. We broke in, and found that not only was every surface of the room several inches deep in debris, turds and clothing, the light was broken and she had an aquarium full of dead (presumed once living) fresh water eels.
I've not been so violently sick in my entire life. I thought I was going to inhale during.

My resounding memories of living with her:
- I once literally staggered out of my own room, extremely dishevelled having spent the entire Sunday morning having the kind of sex you only can in a small room where the bed is nailed to the wall. Kitchen. Hot. I reached the fridge. There was juice. Lovely cold juice.
I turn around having downed the majority of the jug without breathing. Roomie's entire family and extended family were stood in the lounge in full Jamaican Sunday morning church clothes, not a hair out of place. Staring. All thoughts leave my head other than how very disappointed Jesus is with me, and I attempt to remember if I'm wearing pants or not.

- She got her phone wet in the rain and tried to dry it by microwaving it.

- I walk across the kitchen one evening and am nearly taken out by the microwave door exploding across the room, as she decided to microwave a potato for half an hour and go to bed. The door embedded itself in the dining table.

- Another time I hear screaming, and assuming her dealer has caught up with her, debate locking my door. Being too altruistic for my own good, I run out instead, and find her in the kitchen with a large live crab. She had bought it from the market and kept it in the shower all day, but it had got too angry, and she was trying to beat it to death with a bread knife.

I moved out shortly after the vomiting incident, and ended up living across with a self styled gangsta, a prostitute and an actual alcoholic, whereupon an earthquake happened on the second night, and I took it as a sign to move back to the first dorm.

Its never complete without a horrifying BC story.

@Buttery Commissar: Lol that is just so insane. They should make a movie of your life and sell it as a comedy. I'd buy it.

 flamingkillamajig wrote:
@Buttery Commissar: Lol that is just so insane. They should make a movie of your life and sell it as a comedy. I'd buy it.

One of those dark Scandinavian comedies

Yes well I'm still going through my current bad roommate that is a neo-Nazi and/or 20 something year old shooter before he goes on his spree.

Also Buttery your life isn't too terrible. When I was 19 my mom died of cancer and my dad kicked me out of the house. I basically had to live with family on the other side of the country who I barely knew and those were the only people I knew. Let me tell you man I've had rough moments. At least yours are kinda interesting stories. Course I don't know all your stories so maybe I'm wrong here.

Two of the three places I lived long term were mildly amusing and extremely surreal. I need to have a drink and see if I can remember most of the second place in one go.
The third, I still wake up sweating occasionally thinking I'm back there and the screaming woke me. It wasn't funny.

Edit: I never said my life was bad. I just have a high power magnet for the unusual and dangerous. Click filter on one of my posts in the FLGS topic and you'll see. I don't regret things, I just cringe at them. I'm sorry to hear you lost your parent, that's rough as hell.

I'd like to hear more of these stories man. I will say though I dunno if I'd want to live with you. I'm pretty sure your luck would cause the roof to cave in over our heads with a pack of rabid raccoons or squirrels gnawing on us.

You know I find it funny at one point when I asked a roommate to stop playing guitar so loudly so I could sleep for work (it was 1:30 to 2:00 AM) and he threw out comments I was being selfish (despite him being inconsiderate of all others). Man I'd like to punch the downstairs roommate. Right in the face just punch him till he respects people. If only it were that easy.

One housemate in the first week of the first semester of my first year at uni disappeared one day. I later learned he'd gambled away his entire maintenance grant for that semester on an online poker site and had to go home. £3000+.

In my third year, we had to buy our own broadband package. One housemate insisted, nay, DEMANDED that we get an inclusive virgin media package for the house and every must contribute, with broadband, landline telephone, a TV and virgin cable; on the grounds that she wanted documentary channels for her studying (I never once in an entire year see her watching educational programmes) and because she wanted to keep the TV for herself at the end of the year as she didn't have one at home.

Since we only had one landline to plug a broadband WiFi into and I didn't want to spend a year using mobile dongles I reluctantly agreed on the promise that shed reimburse us for our shares in the TV when she took it home.

Natura!ly, she buggered off, having lied to me about when she was returning in the summer to co!lect the TV (so I wasn't there at the time) and she never paid back the £35 ish that she owed me (because she hated me) and only paid our other house mate 2/3 of what she owed him (and she LIKED him).

Really trivial I know but that was just the last incident in a year long series of incidents.

Worked at a Spencer's Gifts as an assistant manager when I met my soon to be roommate.

Her and her husband needed a roommate and I needed to get out of my mother's place.

Once I moved in, found out the rent would fluctuate based on the cost of utilities. She had at least eight aquariums with bearded dragons in every one of them.
Grocery shopping was a race of who would do it first and get their food in the fridge because had a small fridge.
When I agreed to be their roommate I thought I would have more than the bedroom I sleep in, the living room, and the kitchen; the rest of the house was off limits to me.

She eventually had a kid and would leave it crying while she sat on the computer or watched Aliens for the 10th time that day...OH, yeah! She had an odd obsession with the movie Aliens in that the moment she woke up till sleep finally would overpower the Redbulls she had been drinking all day long. Yeah, she drank Redbull like she had been trapped without water for days.
So, the kid...Yeah, she named her kid so her initials would be AMD, after her favorite computer processor.

She would often hang around the outside of my door while I was spending some quality time with my then girlfriend. She would then complain we were being too loud and giggling too much.

One night, after my girlfriend and I went to leave so she could go home, roommates kid started to cry. We looked around and she was nowhere to be seen and the kid had been crying for more than 10 minutes. So before we left, we stopped to make sure the kid was OK and not in need of something. I tried to play with her kid to make her laugh and then, out of nowhere, like a ninja she appeared. She started yelling at me about touching her kid and how dare I come into the living room. I left to take my girlfriend home and come back to have it out with her.

We went round for a while until I literally pointed at her and called her a psycho _____. She freaked out when I pointed at her and called the cops saying I was threatening her. Four cops, FOUR, came and that night I threw everything in boxes and moved back home.

Luckily by this point she had already been fired from Spencer's so I no longer had to see her.

Oh god, roommates. I was about to post about the ones that made the kitchen such a disgusting mess (including managing to grow mold in a bottle of wine!) that I could hardly even enter it and guests could smell something as soon as they walked in the door on the far side of the house. But then I realized I have an even worse story:

My first college roommate was randomly assigned. For all but the last day of class he was a decent enough guy. Clearly a rural guy and there for the farm college side of campus, and nothing at all in common with me, but we managed to coexist well enough. And then, at the end of the year during move-out week, I get a call late at night that he's coming by with two of his relatives and they're spending the night in the room. His brother (IIRC) clearly has some kind of mental problems of the very low intelligence kind. I'm playing a WWII FPS and make a joke about killing americans, and he pulls a knife on me. Instead of calling the police I let his relatives step in and get him to back off ("he's just joking, he wouldn't do anything"), because I'm in the middle of some serious depression and don't think I deserve better. Later on he tries to get into bed with me (non-sexual, I think, just clingy), and after I have to physically push him out my roommate acts resentful that I'm making him sleep on the floor. I still don't call the police or the RA to get them kicked out. My roommate and his sister share the other bed, and I get a strong impression that, while I don't think they were having sex with me in the room, this goes way beyond normal family behavior. This continues on the next day and I finally pull out of it enough to get the brother removed, but without mentioning the knife incident. Thank god I never have to see any of them again.

There's nowt so queer as folk as my grandad used to say.. Jeez. Some real horror stories!

 flamingkillamajig wrote:
He also may be a neo-Nazi...

May?

 flamingkillamajig wrote:
The guy even dresses in Nazi uniform from time to time and once made a flag with a giant skull that had Nazi swastikas for pupils.

Nah bro... he's definitely a Nazi. Like. All the way.

 Buttery Commissar wrote:

 SlaveToDorkness wrote:
::Sits and waits in anticipation of Buttery Commissar's inevitably disturbing post::

There are some areas of my life untouched by lunacy, I'll have you know.

...

Spoiler:

Alright.
I may have to stagger these stories.

#1
When I was 19, I first lived in Nottingham mixed sex student dorms. My first roomie was a young black girl who modelled her lifestyle on Amy Winehouse (pre, post and during death, as far as I can tell). She spent all of her student loans on booze and crack. Actual crack.
Occasionally she would pass out and leave her television looping the DVD intro screens for 18+ hours.
One day I noticed a real stench building from her room, and fearing she had died, called the staff over. We broke in, and found that not only was every surface of the room several inches deep in debris, turds and clothing, the light was broken and she had an aquarium full of dead (presumed once living) fresh water eels.
I've not been so violently sick in my entire life. I thought I was going to inhale during.

My resounding memories of living with her:
- I once literally staggered out of my own room, extremely dishevelled having spent the entire Sunday morning having the kind of sex you only can in a small room where the bed is nailed to the wall. Kitchen. Hot. I reached the fridge. There was juice. Lovely cold juice.
I turn around having downed the majority of the jug without breathing. Roomie's entire family and extended family were stood in the lounge in full Jamaican Sunday morning church clothes, not a hair out of place. Staring. All thoughts leave my head other than how very disappointed Jesus is with me, and I attempt to remember if I'm wearing pants or not.

- She got her phone wet in the rain and tried to dry it by microwaving it.

- I walk across the kitchen one evening and am nearly taken out by the microwave door exploding across the room, as she decided to microwave a potato for half an hour and go to bed. The door embedded itself in the dining table.

- Another time I hear screaming, and assuming her dealer has caught up with her, debate locking my door. Being too altruistic for my own good, I run out instead, and find her in the kitchen with a large live crab. She had bought it from the market and kept it in the shower all day, but it had got too angry, and she was trying to beat it to death with a bread knife.

I moved out shortly after the vomiting incident, and ended up living across with a self styled gangsta, a prostitute and an actual alcoholic, whereupon an earthquake happened on the second night, and I took it as a sign to move back to the first dorm

.

This was a great read at 5am!

 Ustrello wrote:

 flamingkillamajig wrote:
@Buttery Commissar: Lol that is just so insane. They should make a movie of your life and sell it as a comedy. I'd buy it.

One of those dark Scandinavian comedies

CrowdFund: The story of JOB II or the Life of BC!

I was lucky in college to have 2 decent roommates, which is the only time I ever shared a space with someone I wasn't married to or dating (not counting growing up at home, obviously).

One was the son of a Church of Christ minister that had a very similar sense of humor to mine. We got along great. The first year, he basically commuted from Monroe (30 minutes away), so I had a room to myself for 5 nights a week.

My second roommate was for my last 2 quarters as roommate number 1 had graduated. I helped him move in and explained that I'm graduating in 2 quarters, I already have a job offer, so I need to pass all of my classes. No hard partying, no late night visits. We were also in the honors dorm. As I went home every weekend, he had the room to himself then, and could party all he wanted. He was cool with that. I helped him and his classmate with their MIS work from time to time, as he wasn't a bright bulb.

I have no idea what happened to the guy, or even what his name was anymore. Chris something. When I came back every Sunday, there was always a new chick with him. Sometimes still in bed. I finally asked him where he was meeting them. "Oh, I guess I never told you. I get extra cash doing nude modeling for the art department." i guess they liked what the drew...

Second person I lived with was called Gayr. The security guard for the building thought it was a clerical error and kept asking if it should have been Gary. Nope.
She was a "vegan" who wore leather and ate meat from curry houses. Yet still
Threw a blue fit if we left meat in the fridge (not often, I was poor as feth). I asked her about the lapsed standards, and her reasoning for being vegan was "I don't like handling raw meat, it's gross."
I just largely left her to it until she started stealing my food and drink from inside my storage cupboard.

Her and her friends were the stereotypical white teenage art students. Once they learned I was gay, I then walked in on the most frustratingly insanitary things in the dining room.
One day there was just a naked girl covered in body paint and glitter, sprawled on the dining table while my flat mate held up a sheet and a third person took photos.
"Goddamnit!"
"They said you wouldn't mind."
"Yes I mind, get your filthy fething chuff off the dining table! I eat there!"

One day I had a suspected heart attack, and walked to hospital (I wasn't "fine", but it wasn't a heart attack). I had to stay overnight, and before I left didn't tell anyone in the apartment.
I accidentally left fable running on the tv in my room, so everyone thought I was in there and ignoring them.
I came home to find my door literally painted with mayonnaise, several condoms glued to it with the sauce, and when opened, a series of increasingly drunken notes asking me to come out, and a small pile of unwrapped candy posted under the door.

The point at which hostility started was when they interrupted me fething (and less importantly, sleeping) by hammering on the door repeatedly throughout the night. My partner opened the door in his pants and little else, screamed at them, and in fleeing, one of them fell down two flights of stairs.

I occasionally had to be let into adjoining apartments to get stuff back that they stole, and there was a large crayon drawing of me on the wall, that had me labelled as having a "gas mask fetish". I laughed my ass off. I don't know where that came from, but it still tickles me.

I'm not sure if I should write the only actual revenge I got on them.

 Buttery Commissar wrote:
and there was a large crayon drawing of me on the wall, that had me labelled as having a "gas mask fetish". I laughed my ass off. I don't know where that came from, but it still tickles me.

Well judging from your avatar and username, you are an Imperial Guard fan, aren't you?

I'm not sure if I should write the only actual revenge I got on them.

Please do.

I wasn't into 40K back then, I found the idea dull.
Only really reading the fluff in 2015 changed that.

The third and last set, I was the only natively English person living in a college dorm full of (mostly) Chinese / foreign language students.
I had what was basically an enclosed studio flat to myself, with a shared floor area.

On one wall I had two huge African guys who to begin with didn't speak a word of English, grinned, waved and smiled to me all the time, and played bongos loudly (and very well), 2am to 3am on the dot every day.
They looked out for me on the street around the campus, and I did my best and kept things pretty chill between us. They'd hold doors for me, and I'd explain posted door notices that were perplexing.

The guy opposite... He used to beat his girlfriend in the night, until the screams sounded like she was sincerely being killed. She didn't speak much English either, and all I could make out were pleading and screaming at him to stop whatever he was doing.

I called security, I called the police, nothing was ever done. The staff would knock, he'd apologise. The police would say it was up to our security to sort out. The next week, the girl was back and they'd be at it again.
A few times during these fights I went over and knocked on the door, but he wouldn't answer. The only time he did, she ran out half dressed past me, and left me with a six foot tall, ripped and extremely angry Indian guy who then explained in his own language what he would do to me, complete with hand gestures.
I ended up backed against my own door, convinced I was about to be killed.

One night she was hammering on their door for him to let her out, and screaming blue murder.
My door was about a metre away, and I couldn't do a damn thing apart from wait for the security who never came.

I went to college later in life. I got out of the Marines, and my little brother was going to begin his second year at a nearby university that I had no intention of attending. Turns out he wasn't doing so well, and needed adult supervision. My father asked me to go and attend the same school in the name of family. Not knowing anything about colleges, I agreed. Much to my regret they didn't have the program I wanted: mechanical engineering. I thought it was a common enough program. I thought wrong. I wound up getting a degree in sociology (worthless) with a minor in business (even more worthless).

What makes the situation utterly horrifying is that my mom divorced my dad and decided to go back to school. My brother and I had a two bedroom apartment. I was allowed an apartment despite being a freshman due to my military service. I think I would have murdered the kids in the dorm. So my mom decides to go back to school. Since her history degree was worthless she decided to get another worthless degree: a masters in fine arts.

And of course she needed a place to stay. Trouble is, you can't tell your mom no. She set up shop in our two bedroom apartment. I had to lay some ground rules. I was paying the rent, so I was lord of the manor. My dad was originally going to pay my brother's half of expenses, but that fell through once the court order for alimony and support of our two younger siblings went through. My gi bill had to make the ends meet, and I had a job at an auto parts store. I told mom she would never interfere with me getting laid or she was gone. I had left home at 18, been a sergeant in the Marines, and I had earned my college experience.

Mom was also forbidden from bringing in her new boy toy. If there was going to be anyone taming my mother, it would not be under my roof. The man that broke up my parents' marriage was not welcome. The parking situation also had to be addressed. In America, a car is a must. But in college towns parking is hard to come by. My mother's solution was to park far away from the apartment and have us come to get her . . . regardless of what we were doing, including working my job to make rent. I had to have a talk with her like she was an eight year old about calling me at work or while I was in class.

One time she caught me while I was enjoying a brief respite in my room. She was at the university and needed me to bring her tampons. So I got to be tampon delivery because it was easier than dealing with her having a hissy fit later. Needless to say my total amount of strange tamed during undergrad would have been higher but for my mother following me to college. If I had known this was going to happen I would have stayed in the Marines. I had to make her clean up after herself. She expected my brother and I to be her servants. Her car needed gas? We were expected to go fill it for her. She was too important to do that herself.

If she had problems with her car she wouldn't bring it to me. I was expected to gather up all my tools and go wherever she was. When she wrecked her car my brother and I had to take turns driving her around and running her errands (besides the ones we already did). I took summer classes to get done with school as soon as possible. I graduated in 3 years, so at least some good came of it.

Everything came to a head when she decided to have my littlest brother move in as well. I was going to have to care for him and take him to school. I called my father on this. I told him if I was taking care of the child I wanted the child support. I had been screwed into working full time while going to school full time, and I was not happy with the situation. What had been the shining reward after over 5 years of military service had turned into a living hell. My mother was driving all of us nuts. My father said that was a valid point and would be happy to come to court and inform a judge about the situation.

I told my mom the buck stopped here, and she needed to grow up and sleep in the bed she had made. She decided to be Miss independent woman, and she needed to quit interfering with our lives and expecting us to be her eternal servants for nine months rent in the womb. She was of course butt hurt. Eventually she got over it, and I even introduced my wife to her about a week before I was married. My mom was the worst room mate I ever had.

My rooommates think im a neo-nazi because
1: I listen to heavy metal
2: I have a shaved head and wear road leathers
3: I Constantly make racist comments against a fake race in FF14

 hotsauceman1 wrote:
My rooommates think im a neo-nazi because
2: I have a shaved head and wear road leathers

No its because thats all you wear.

I'll be honest, your roommate stories are... wow. Since this doesn't involve animal roommates, again just wow.

 Shadow Captain Edithae wrote:

 Buttery Commissar wrote:
and there was a large crayon drawing of me on the wall, that had me labelled as having a "gas mask fetish". I laughed my ass off. I don't know where that came from, but it still tickles me.

Well judging from your avatar and username, you are an Imperial Guard fan, aren't you?

I'm not sure if I should write the only actual revenge I got on them.

Please do.

I was broke as feth, as were we all.. so stealing food was pretty donkey-cave behaviour.

So when stuff started going missing from my cupboard, I just put a note on the back of my soda that said, "C'mon, I don't earn enough for you to steal my drinks."
Next morning, I'm taking a call from a university course leader and "someone" starts screaming outside my door, banging on it and demanding I come out and call her a thief to her face.
I apologise to the professor and ask for a moment, lean out of my door and say, "Okay you're a thief."
"How do you have the balls to call me a thief?"
"If you're not a thief, how did you find a note that was taped to *my* food?"
"..."
And went back to my call, and got the transfer.

After that she started out right throwing my food away, and even emptied my entire set of plates and cutlery into the trash can one night.
The cleaning staff from the building found the bag and returned it to me, before I had even noticed.

I briefly had a hole in my gut that meant gaking was like passing broken glass, so at one point was on pretty powerful prescription. stool softener. It was tasteless, clear, and I think you get where this is going. I bought a two litre of premium cream soda, waited for someone to start stealing it. I replaced a third of it with the laxatives and the rest of it was gone by the next morning.

Yes it took effect. Bonus: She was subletting to her boyfriend, and they only had one bathroom. There was a lot of arguing.

...Do neighbours count as fair game in this topic?

BC for you of course they do. its like watching the movie of Job if Job were Bill Murray.

As the human version of a fat blue tick hound, I find the only appropriate thing to do when they steal your food is bite their face off.

@BC: That is fething hilarious! What a stupid bint! You seem to be a magnet for crazy though, mate.

Honestly, I do not like being passive aggressive. I'm very good at it, but I would far far rather just tell someone.

Let's see...
Upstairs roommate is pushy, opinionated and lets her pets have the run of the place.
Got two guys where all they do is fight, play video games, pile-up stinky laundry, steal all the food and have no concept of time.
Another likes to tell me what to do and expects me to fix everything she breaks.

Families suck as roommates (wife, kids and grandma).

I briefly had a hole in my gut that meant gaking was like passing broken glass, so at one point was on pretty powerful prescription. stool softener. It was tasteless, clear, and I think you get where this is going. I bought a two litre of premium cream soda, waited for someone to start stealing it. I replaced a third of it with the laxatives and the rest of it was gone by the next morning.

For a moment there I thought you gakked in the soda bottle...

 Shadow Captain Edithae wrote:

I briefly had a hole in my gut that meant gaking was like passing broken glass, so at one point was on pretty powerful prescription. stool softener. It was tasteless, clear, and I think you get where this is going. I bought a two litre of premium cream soda, waited for someone to start stealing it. I replaced a third of it with the laxatives and the rest of it was gone by the next morning.

For a moment there I thought you gakked in the soda bottle...

The same thought ran through my head as well.