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Roommate horror stories?!

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Old 03-06-2002, 09:58 PM   #26
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I've had nothing but great luck with my roomies, except one, who was just a slob. But nobody in the house could handle her shit, so she was kinda outnumbered. It's when the bad ones group up, that's when you're in trouble.
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Old 03-06-2002, 10:11 PM   #27
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skipper... aww your roomate even sounds like the cutest ever!
im in love with her now!

ive had my share of roomates:

my first place (in high school.. SUCH a flop house!)
2 of us went to one school, and 2 went to another. me and my friend were both on football and waterpolo and popular and crap.. we had a kegger and like the whole school showed up..
one roomate got soo loaded and started stabbing holes in walls..
trying to pick fights with the football team, and being an ass with the girls... it was an everyday thing though
we beat him up =-)

my first place in toronto was with this girl i went to high school with.. it was fine for awhile until she got jealous of my realtionship with my girlfriend (and her always being over) then she started to suck huge. i came home one day and there was locks on everything and she said she just didnt want to share things anymore
(but she was fine to share my couch, tv, computer, dining room table, etc..)

then i lived with my girlfriend for a while.. sooooooooooooooo bad
(dont move in with your girlfriend EVER!!!)
we lived together for 4 months after we broke up and it sucked. I would come home from school or work and if the night was on id go to the bar across the street and drink until she turned off the light and went to bed. she took the cat too

then i lived with this ass-fuck dan.
actually i cant complain about dan, except he made me drink too much
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Old 03-06-2002, 11:25 PM   #28
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I had a superb housemate in my uni days. Oh where to start...

He had an amazing ephedrine/caffine/tylenol habit which made him very edgy all the time. He was the typical slob, leaving dishes/chocolate wrappers/fast food bags/gatorade bottles/baggies etc everywhere. Never lifted a finger to help us clean and maintain the house. A generally smelly individual, his room always smelt like shit. Rarely bought food so therefore helped me eat mine. Dealt weed out of our house which wasn't always bad, but we did have sketch bags rolling in and out all day and sometimes hanging out way past their welcome. His drug dealer friend would stash his even bigger stash at our house and stop by whenever he felt like it to stock up. He bought a big screen TV on credit and kept it in his room all to himself! Despite the drug dealing, getting money off him for bills was like pulling teeth, probably because he would smoke all his profits away so there really wasn't much money.

I could go on with the ecentric behaviour but I'm gonna leave that for the best selling book me and my other housemates are going to write.

Chris
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Old 03-06-2002, 11:47 PM   #29
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Chris - was that when you lived in that house with what appeared to be 20 people?

Bumbaclat
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Old 03-07-2002, 12:11 AM   #30
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i would have painted "joey" on a rock and threw it through his big screen tv and then said i didnt do it
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Old 03-07-2002, 01:01 AM   #31
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of the people ive lived with...

... I cant say that anyone has had any serious problem. One was addicted to the phone - to the point where we'd be in mid-conversation, the phone would ring and she'd get up, go outside, smoke and talk on the phone!!! Really rude... and she always dominated the conversations anyway.

Of my current roomates, I only have one problem... poo gravel and poo streaks in the toilet. Its the worst thing ever, and Im really tolerant. Waking up in the morning and seeing poo gravel is sooo awful... all I ask is for a second flush! Since its become really bad, Ive taken to calling him 'peege', and combination of the initails of poo gravel (p + g = peege). great guy though.

peace.
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Old 03-07-2002, 02:48 AM   #32
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In my first year at University i had the worst experience of my life with my roomate, which i had to share a double room with. She did nothing except sleep all day, get stoned and sleep with anything with a penis. I would come home after a hard day of class to a pitch dark room,with blankets and sheets thrown over the windows so she could sleep so i couldn't really do anything in there in the day time or she would flip out. She would constantly lose my stuff and loan it out to her friends and lye about it. Steal my meal card and tell me about all the guys she banged, every little detail that i had no interest in. She would use my ICQ to have internet sex with random guys. Didn't wash her sheets all year.....nasty especially after what went on in there...woke up to her a couple of times having sex in the room! She was obsessed with n'sync and the backstreet boyz....posters allover her side of the room, not to mention the constant crappy music. Finally, she did the unthinkable .....had sex in my bed with a big fat dude when i went home one weekend ....i found the "reminants" later on! I was so disqusted that i moved in with a friend a month before school ended!! Message to everyone .....don't get a double in university unless you know the person!!!

Now i live with four girls! its good except one of them likes to play chore nazis and put dumb notes on the refrigerator about who isn't doing there share!! So annoying =)

cheers
Jess
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Old 03-07-2002, 07:15 AM   #33
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wow. after hearing all these stories, i'm glad i live with my girlfriend.

peace
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Old 03-07-2002, 07:23 AM   #34
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Quote:
Originally posted by SUNKIST
although most people have heard my story...

I was subletting a place with Moez and some other guy in the summer. unknown to us, everybody and their brother had a key to the house, so EVERY WEEKEND there would be a parade of jocks at our house, and we wouldnt know till we came home and found them sleeping in our beds. the house constantly smelled like someone pissed in every corner of it after they left..there was empty beer bottles and half eatten sandwhiches everywhere..it was nasty. and then the guy roomate we were with would leave his dirty dishes in the sink until mold and fruit flies would accumulate....i live by myself now.
ughh, thinking about this gives me the creeps still.

I can't count the number of times I would hear some drunk guy stumble into my room in the middle of the night, yelling to whoever upstairs that he was going to use the computer, and then turning on the lights realising I was sleeping there.

so annoying.

having money stolen, food completely eaten, no fail I would come back from a week-end and have no food left, my stuff all thrown on the floor so when the basement did happen to flood all of my stuff was so nicely placed as to get WET.

I still have the key to that place, and when I walk, or drive by, it takes all of my effort to not go inside and release the wrath of Johane! lol.

I live alone now as well
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Old 03-07-2002, 07:49 AM   #35
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Quote:
Originally posted by Sassy


And Cheeka don't you mean "I have some good
"whore" stories?! (So dead - kidding, kidding, kidding!!!)
hahaha - you are Sassy

[creepy michael douglas movie]I'll never tell [/creepy michael douglas movie]
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Old 03-07-2002, 07:52 AM   #36
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Reading this thread confirms 2 things for me...
1. There are a lot of fucked up assholes around...
2. I'm never getting a roommate...
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Old 03-07-2002, 07:56 AM   #37
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Re: of the people ive lived with...

Quote:
Originally posted by Colm
[BOf my current roomates, I only have one problem... poo gravel and poo streaks in the toilet. Its the worst thing ever, and Im really tolerant. Waking up in the morning and seeing poo gravel is sooo awful... all I ask is for a second flush! Since its become really bad, Ive taken to calling him 'peege', and combination of the initails of poo gravel (p + g = peege). great guy though.

peace. [/B]
i had a roommate who was lactose intolerant, but insisted on still drinking milk...a few times a week, i would be awoken by violent ass-plosions occuring in the bathroom with which i shared a wall...and the cleanup was always minimal...

one time, he drank some milk w/ lunch, and went to his girls house...15 mins later i heard his jeep pull up, and the door open and him running downstairs to the basement b-room...i was in the kitchen and the smell of shit suddenly became overpowering....unfortunatley for me (and he as well i guess) he had needed to shit at his grrls, and didn't want to drop one there, so he sprinted home, and tried to make it to the bathroom, but didn't quite make it...he dropped his shorts as he was running in, and proceeded to leave a 5 foot trail of runny, chocolate pudding like shit all down the hall way in the base ment...being a house of 8 guys, our cleaning supplies were at a minimum, so he used a few old tshirts to wipe it up, but there was still shit shrapnel on the walls for years......

*gag*
c.
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Old 03-07-2002, 07:59 AM   #38
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Re: Re: of the people ive lived with...

Quote:
Originally posted by rudebwoy


i had a roommate who was lactose intolerant, but insisted on still drinking milk...a few times a week, i would be awoken by violent ass-plosions occuring in the bathroom with which i shared a wall...
hahahaha - ass-plosions... hahaha

but ewww - that's just nasty.... poor you!
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Old 03-07-2002, 08:02 AM   #39
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Sandy's story is among the worst.

But I have heard some most interesting stories from Jeffsus about cray foreign roomates and such.

As for me... I've never had anything worse than the odd mess in the kitchen and late rent roomate.

But the roomate that I have now I've never had any problems with. It's pretty much the perfect arrangement.

Pete
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Old 03-07-2002, 08:10 AM   #40
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Quote:
Originally posted by joey
skipper... aww your roomate even sounds like the cutest ever!
im in love with her now!

Oh man. You don't even know! Just picture that, I'd say every 10 minutes. It gets old real fast. I like when her BF comes over, and harasses the cat to get a rise out of her. Fawwwwny.

After reading the last few posts, my hot chocolate seeming not so appetizing....
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Old 03-07-2002, 08:43 AM   #41
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I luv my roomate!

=tina=
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Old 03-07-2002, 09:47 AM   #42
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Quote:
Originally posted by Bumbaclat
Chris - was that when you lived in that house with what appeared to be 20 people?

Bumbaclat
Nah, this all happened the year before I moved into "The Ranch". That house was great! I am convinced we threw the best keg parties ever! How many people can say they had undercover cops at their party and still not get busted?!?

Chris
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Old 03-07-2002, 10:29 AM   #43
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I no longer do roommates.






what can be said sometimes I'm slow to learn.
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Old 03-07-2002, 10:47 AM   #44
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wow.

i love my roommate. i make him gourmet meals, (penne with roasted red pepper and chicken breast in a white wine pesto cream sauce,) and we drink red wine and talk about sex. (sex with *other* people...not with each other.)

the only *bad* thing i can think of is he occasionally leaves the toilet seat up and all my friends *love* him. like, they reallyreally think he's cool...once he went out with them without me. that sucked.

sandy, your situation sounds awful. same with quite a few of you...my deepest sympathy.

(nothing beats living alone, tho.)

*muah*
~N
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Old 03-07-2002, 11:04 AM   #45
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My experiences with roommates have all been very positive (except for one stunningly contrary example... may the bottle of Jäger rest in pieces )

For a while I lived in Alliston Ontario. Alliston is a town located outside of Toronto but closer than New York. To make things worse, I lived there in the winter. Alliston in the winter is a fairly inhospitable place, not to mention uneventful.

Luckily, I ended up with a wonderful fourth year engineering student from UW. Engineering students from UW have the remarkable property of being incredibly polarized: 99% have had all novelty distilled from them leaving a mashy heap of insipid banality. Torry, however, was brewed of that 1% distillate and enabled even Alliston in Winterland to be food for thought.

Torry was (is?) a free spirited Norwegian expatriot whose path crossed mine more due to happenstance than any planning on his part. At first impressions I saw him as an older student who liked to go to the gym, cook baked potatoes, and kept a girlfriend in Barrie. "Typische", dachte ich mir.

It wasn't until he showed me how to brew mead that my interest in this boy was peaked. He had a hankering for discussing philosophical issues over his home brewwed mead and cider. He introduced me to skoal and Guinness and the need for irreverence in work ethics. He taught me that the hangover can be conquered and that morals are no impedance to strip clubs.

He preferred to discuss Jesus over whiskey, music was strictly reserved for mead and cider. Beer of course led to a discourse about girls and sex and how a beautiful boy was still fuckable even if not lovable. Wine would invariably lead to metaphysical discussions regarding the nature of reality and its influences over our perceptions. Torry would always take great care, being an engineer, not to allow things to get too metaphysical, but(this separates him from the Mormons and Marxists) his practical side didn't prevent him from dissecting Leary's 8 fold model, or from supporting Lilly's earth coincidence control centre (an idea I still cannot come to terms with, myself). Tequila and mescale related Agave was the flavour of aesthetic discussions pertaining to hair, clothes, body and body images and odours, and somehow stereo equipment and cars would work themselves in there during Tequila. Port was reserved for relationships, of which Torry seemed to esteem friendship in higher regards than romantic "love" (he would quote Aristotle in this regard, but personally I think his opinions had more to do with the fact that he had been fucked over by a fair share of girls). We drank Port the most often: Torry would comment on the blood crimson of "Cockburn's Anno 93" (which was in fashion that year) for which, I admit, I adopted a fancy over time. Holding the glass to his candles and peering through it, he always commented "It's the most beautiful Port you can buy". At the time all I could see was a cheap wine glass clouded by automated dishwashers and hard water.

One night, having immoderately enjoyed some mead and cider, we got to talking about various instruments, specifically, the Pipe Organ. More specifically, the pipe organ that was mysteriously installed beyond an inaccessible small door on the first stair landing leading upstairs.

The "room" was more or less off limits usually. The Landlord was in the habit of restoring an old pipe organ as a retirement hobby. Throughout the term, we would occasoinally hear the dulled whollop of soft rubber mallots installing the brass pipes and the incessant droning process of tuning. Never, however, had we been actually inside the Organ Room. There was the unspoken expectation that the room was out of bounds for us borders. Over the mead and cider however, it became clear that Torry and I were both harbouring a burning curiosity about the smaller-than-standard door and the room behind it. Well, Mr. Landlord had gone to bracebridge for the weekend, and when the cat's away...

The house was Victorian and solid. It was filled with all the pleasantries a that a good stay-at-home baptist housewife could collect before her husband retires. Old wood floors, hearth heated, and oak staircases. Our first impressions of this Organ Room were therefore unexpected. It was freezing cold, dark, and dank. Our drunken stupour did not make it easier to find the lightswitch.

The room was dusty and unkept. Browning, water stained boxes full of discarded family artifacts were strewn about; screwdrivers, toolboxes, drills and saws haphazardly left where last used; nicotine stained books with mouldy pages and faded green covers.... And of course, directly confronting us, a mammoth of an organ, more beast than instrument, the better of 20 feet tall and 12 feet wide. Flanked on each side were dull copper smokestacks, separated by ever shrinking tubules, the middle of which gleaned like polished golden teeth. Below those lapped out hundreds of black and ochre keys and scores of handles in various states of construction. Torry and I were quiet a while until Torry said,

"Well, we're going to have to play it."
I could see my breath in the cold air.

Torry worked a large circuit on the wall, firing up the billows pressuring in the basement. We could hear their five horsepower working through the floor and took the bench. The cider passed back and forth a few times while we determined how best to woo the beast. Torry experimented with foreplay on her pedals; the deep and heavy moans were an encouraging sign that we were on the right track. I, qui sedit ad dexteram Torry, pressed impatiently (and foolishly!) at the climactic highnotes, which drew sharp piercing screams! "Sorry! Too early, I know!" I thought, shying back to the more breathy midranges. Torry was inexperienced musically and had a bit of trouble keeping the rhythm in sync; I showed him a slow, pulsating technique that seemed to worked well. I asked him to repeat this, with variation as he pleased, all the while paying attention to her low rumblings and responses, while I slowly flirted with the lower octaves, eventually and cautiously working up the crescendo. She had a voracious appetite; it was clear it would take both of us working together to satisfy her full potential. I had never played an instrument of this magnitude before; her tone was hardly beautiful, many of the notes were clearly robust and untuned, and the resultant melody was one of a heavy, fleshy lust reawakened from decades of melancholic repression. Each note had it's own timbre, likely collected from hundreds of different organs over time. With the right coaxing however, Torry and I had each note singing together in spirit, if not tune. The heavy bassline rattled the mezzanine. My fingers warmimg, I pushed the tempo from largo to andante with approval from the Organ. A head full of mead, I then risked brisking up to an allegro, building canonic melody all the while. Squeals of resonance, and visceral bassy moans paved way for climaxing on the highest octaves, whereupon I instinctively converted to a major key and opened as many valves as my body would allow. Deep below, we could feel her billows pumping hard to keep pace with the demands of our union.

With no more octaves to tickle, we left, satisfied and fully drained. We decided on a beer and some skoal, and retired to our room. We visited the organ again several times that term, but, like all great experiences, the repeats never quite compared to the first time.

-jM
A&D
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