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Roomate stories
Anarchy Rules!
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Registered User regular
In the H/A forum someone posted about an annoying roomate. Not particularly interesting, but the replys were hilariously funny. A roomate shitting up walls? I want to hear more about that!
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This wouldn't be so bad, if not for the fact that was the first time they met.
One night, before I was going to go to some early Friday morning volunteer program where I helped innocent, young public schoolers learn about science and nature and shit, they came back home after closing, all of them with some man in tow. It was only a 2BR apartment, so we had a living room, then a short hallway which connected to my room and the other bedroom.
Anyway, they ended up splitting off, one heading to the living room, one going to the hallway (it had doors on it so you could close it off and have it to yourself for whatever reason) and one to the other bedroom and proceeded to get down. So it was like 3 in the morning or something, and I was going to have to get up at 7:15 or so so that I could get out to my volunteer program and save the youth of tomorrow, and I had to sit and listen to my 3 roommates have sex in stereo.
Living with girls really isn't the dream many seemed to think it was when I was doing it, and really, no, them being "hot" doesn't make it any better.
That's like an episode of Three's Company gone horribly, horribly wrong.
pleasepaypreacher.net
Unless you were one of the three guys getting some. Then its allllll good.
My stories are pretty strange regarding my roommates. I had one who I swore was a sociopath or something because all he'd do is come home, go to his room and do homework. No hello or anything. The other two roommates were really talkative, and I get stuck with the fucking american psycho (though he was korean). The most active thing we saw him do? He sat in the living room, by himself, drinking beer. Out of a hello kitty mug. I think he said like...two whole words.
Another involves my girlfriend's dorm roommate, who was an avid party girl who i'd say hung quite "loose". Well, thinking to surprise my girlfriend (now fiance), I head over to her room one saturday morning and knock on the door. I hear a sing songy "come in" and go on ahead (i had my ipod in and didn't really think to discern the voice). Well I walk in and there her roommate is, topless, and looking surprised as hell. Then she winked and smiled and I immediately backpedaled the shit out of there.
My last one takes the cake. One of my roommates freshmen year didn't have a freaking laundry basket for his dirty laundry. So instead, he tosses it up onto his bed and uses his old dirty laundry as a second layer of bedding. This boy never washed his shit until he couldn't get to the door through his stacks of clothes, so our room reeked. The funny thing is, he somehow got his extremely cute girlfriend to have sex with him repeated times on the damn mountain of filth (and she was quite a well kept put together kitten). She left him later on, but it seriously baffles the mind.
Battlenet: Judgement#1243
psn: KupoZero
He would cook up massive servings of sauce and pasta, and eat about half in one sitting. The other would sit in the pan, hardening into a congealed red thing with a thick dark crust, which he would then slice up and eat cold, on toast.
He also had hilariously shitty social graces. We had an exchange student (French, lovely girl.) who he'd often corner into unfomfortably creepy conversations. Example- he mentioned the word cunt around her, she asked what it meant, he turned to another woman in the kitchen (not me thank fuck) and asked her what she called her vagina. And then asked the exchange student what she called hers. And so on.
Sometimes he forgot his room keys and slept on the kitchen table.
It covers more ground than just funny anecdotes, but I mean either way the premise is endlessly amusing to me.
________________
This is how it begins:
"Hey man, taste this beer. It tastes like pussy."
A few times now I've wished that I had a tape recorder on me when my roommate strikes up conversation. I'm going to have to look into this. And for the record, I've never tasted pussy which tasted like beer.
My roomate's response:
"I dunno man. I don't eat pussy no more."
This is the opening prompt for a 8-10 minute conversation between my roommate and his friend re: the various strategies, tactics, and requirements of cunnilingus. P. apparently doesn't do it any more, because he dislikes the taste. M. says he always does it on the first sexual encounter in order to set a good precedent and then he never does it again. M. also claims it's a good strategy when you know you're real worked up and you're only going to be able to manage 10 seconds or so of intercourse. It's best to get the girl off a few times before jumping in for your brief release; this way she has nothing to complain about, M. explains. P. agrees that while these points may be valid, it's still not a good enough reason for him to eat pussy. M. relates the powerful feeling that occasionally overcomes him which just makes him want to eat pussy more than anything. According to the emphasis M. places on the description of this emotion, I would have to assume that it can be a pretty powerful one.
Frankly, I've never engaged in such crude discussion as the one described above. Living with two men has, in the past few months, introduced me to such randy bedroom talk for the first time in my life. I sit mute during these times, with nothing to add, feeling uncomfortable and confused. It's middle school locker room talk all over again. They aren't going to ask me about my experience, are they? Will I have to make up a lie to satisfy them? Is he fucking serious that he thinks his beer tastes like pussy?
I simply can't speak that crudely about the topic of sex. Even between intimate partners I have a relatively toned down and personalized vocabulary to discuss our bedroom relations. Whether it's for shame of my own sexuality or respect for my sexual partners that I can't approach these topics in the manner of P. and M., we may never know. All I know is that I really need to start shopping for a portable tape recorder.
--
That summer I lived with a guy and a girl. They were both messy, but the guy in particular was downright nasty (i.e. inside of his toilet was black, there was eggshell ground into his carpet). They both gave themselves food poisoning by eating chicken that had been left out on the counter over night. Wouldn't have bothered me so much except that they totally wrecked the bathrooms.
After I graduated and moved to DC, he called one day saying that he was going to come by for a visit (we went to school in Texas). Apparently he still hadn't finished his degree on account of the fact that he had failed German for like the eighth time. However, he had told his parents that he had graduated. He collected his graduation gifts, loaded up his car, and headed East to crash on my couch.
Living with him was a lot of fun. But, like I said, the dude was filthy (which didn't help my habits). One time we bought a load of quick-sale chicken thighs at the store, stripped the meat off of it, and froze it. We had this giant pile of bones and skin left over, and decided to make stock. So we loaded up the stockpot, added water, turned on the heat and went and played SoulCal and drink whiskey.
Around five in the morning, we realized that we still had stock going and didn't want to fuck with it, so we just turned the heat off, rationalizing that it was sterile due to being boiled, and said we'd boil it again the next day and everything would be fine.
So we did that. But, again, around five in the morning the next day we realized we had stock going, didn't want to fuck with it, so just decided to let it cool and boil it again the next day.
We repeated this for two months, adding water when we had to. We took to calling it "chicken wine".
In the end, we just threw it all out. I was afraid to look at it (or smell it, really), so I just dumped the whole stockpot in a dumpster.
I doubt it.
If you've ever had Vietnamese fish sauce, on the other hand...
Spoilered for length.
After looking at a few duds we found the best student house I've ever seen. It cost bugger all (£45 a week! And this is in Bristol where the average was up around £65 at the time) and was massive (it had secret passages, two bathrooms, a rogue toilet, a laundry room, massive bedrooms, a great big lounge and a garden). Score!
Now, the other guy in the house wasn't exactly an academic and he failed his first year but through begging, pleading and resist he was allowed to progress to the next year of his course. So the year starts and he gets a job in a pub, which gradually comes to dominate his time rather than going to lectures.
As the year moved by he became a manager at the pub, he also moved almost every single item of cutlery,every plate, most of the glasses and all but one bowl into his room. Here they sat, festering. Now, the house was a tense place generally and we used to have "house meetings" to sort out bills and any disputes and we simply didn't spend any time together. Invariably the housemeetings would be about the need for the messy guy to do some washing up and his share of the cleaning.
I had a room on the top floor, he had the other. Passing by his door treated me to sights and smells I'll never forget. He kept his windows permanently open in a hope of dispersing the smell, but it lingered. I very rarely went into the room, instead he'd come into mine (we were still fairly good friends despite how difficult he was to live with). His floor was encrusted with filth (and I mean encrusted, the landlord asked him to replace the carpet in his room as it was so horrible). And the flies. Ugh.
Gradually I noticed that his collection of empty 2 litre bottles of coke were slowly becoming full again. Full of something yellowish orange that I never gained the courage to question. I spoke to one of the girls about it and she agreed that it was most likely urine.
One night we all awoke to The sultans of Swing blaring out of his room loudly. On repeat. This was at about 2am. So we bang on his door and get no response. Turns out he gone out at 2am and felt the need to turn his music on sufficiently loudly to wake up the whole house.
His job as manager gave him free access to pub food (which was good as he'd sometimes grab me before he started work and we'd get some free lunch together), prior to this pub food was half price. In the year I spent in that house he cooked a single meal, despite this he kept a large portion of the fridge and freezer occupied. He would buy food and let it rot (and the freezer was largely full of bags of low grade beef mince). Other times he would bring food close to expiry home from the pub kitchen and just leave it hanging around until it was long past bad. The problem was that he was difficult to track down to question about the rotting food as at this point he'd become nocturnal. He'd wake up whenever his pub shift started and go to bed at dawn.
Once, while very drunk he'd lost his keys (or possibly locked them inside) and forumlated the cunning plan of battering the door down. IT was this that rather strained his relationship with one of the girls in the house (she'd been home with only her boyfriend in the house and the two had woken up to loud bangings on the frontdoor as he attacked it with a plank he'd found in a skip).
He also had problems remembering to flush, this problem heightened when he'd been drinking. So on several occasions you'd wake up and find a turd lurking in the toilet. That I could cope with. One of the girls went down for a shower one morning and found a turd in the shower.
Needless to say when our contract came up, I moved out. Foolishly the other four stayed. The end result was the messy guy moving his room down to what had been the lounge for reasons I don't quite understand. The lounge was in the basement and somehow, him and his girlfriend managed to flood the whole damn place. I'd left by this point so I don't know the details.
Either way, it was a bit of a tense year at times.
tl;dr: I had a housemate who shat in the shower, kept bottles of what was quite possibly his own urine, set his music to come on very loudly in the middle of the night and even flooded the basement.
Man, this is exactly how I'd deal with the situation.
I don't really have a story, but I did have a terrible roommate situation. My second roommate in my spring semester of my freshmen year, my roommate chewed tobacoo. He would leave open cups of that shit just sitting out in the room. It was the most nauseating smell ever. Luckily he moved out after about a month and a half to join his friend who'd just landed an apartment.
Anyway, one night I'm in bed and the door to our dorm room opens. In walks the roommate with a girl I sorta knew. Roommate is drunk and sits down on our futon. I drift back off to sleep. Sometime later I wake up to the screams of the girl. I look over to find my roommate naked from the waist down and the girl's head covered in puke. Evidently she was giving him a blowjob and because he was drunk he ended up throwing up...on her head, in the middle of the act.
My first response was to grab a camera and take a picture (to be given to roomie's frat brothers for their amusement). Then I took said girl (who was semi-drunk) to the shower stripped her down and helped her wash off. Escorted her out of our building (single sex dorms) in a clean t-shirt, and went back to bed. I woke up the next morning to find my roommate passed out, still half naked on our futon.
Talking to him later he had no memory of the night and even mentioned that the girl in question was being a bitch to him when he called her later that day.
I had a friend in college that we affectionately called "Beat." He was about 350 lbs of solid beach muscles, a fairly impressive sight. He got shafted in the roommate game by the Student Affairs asshole, and wound up with this Freshman that listened to things like later Dashboard Confessionals and My Chemical Romance and stuff, meeting the epitome of the polo'd frat boy with a red plastic cup full of shitty beer.
Beat was not alright with this. The freshman managed to piss Beat off in the span of about thirty minutes, doing thigns like moving Beat's stuff and setting up his stuff on Beat's claimed half of the room. At least partially motivated by roid rage and partially motivated by frustration, Beat proceeded to drop his pants and masturbate furiously at the Freshman while roaring at the top of his lungs and pounding the bed post with his fist.
Beat was in his own room for the rest of the semester.
pleasepaypreacher.net
Top that one.
I think we have learned from this thread that people who go to Universities sometimes have social disorders and often hilarity results.
Amateur.
My roommates had loud sex so often that I got in the habit of playing Slayer really loudly in their general direction.
Although, at the time... I wasn't much better....
God I hope someone else knows what I'm talking about.
Jesus Christ. Like, he literally had schizophrenia? That really sucks for him, and his entire family.
Seriously, /thread.
Schizophrenia deludes your mind. Those people have no idea what reality is.
Click that dropdown menu over there. Go ahead. See how many chapters there are.
He drew the symbol for this thing on our door. He never, ever wanted to have a girlfriend. He thought drinking alcohol was a sign of the devil. He stole my food. He stole my laptop's power cord. I had to call the cops on him to get it back. He once told me that Japan didn't want Pearl Harbor to be a suprise attack, because of Japanese honor. He played Princess Maker and Second Life. And WoW. All at the same time.
He was so horrible oh god it was bad.
pleasepaypreacher.net
To which I cheerfully replied "will do!"
I have a good room mate encounter with the sleep mumbler. I drove an hour or so to go get my boyfriend from his college for the weekend and then drove back to see a movie. My roomie calls me and says that he won't be in the room for the night. This guy was giving me the room because I was having my boy over, something I can't do too often due to ongoing conflicts and all that. He ended up spending the night at his dad's house because he wanted to spend some time with his family while in town, but still, I couldn't help but feel a bit touched.
While that is all very annoying, there is nothing particularly homoerotic about foot washing. It is usually done as sort a symbolic, "being a servant to your fellow (hu)man kind of thing".
My freshman year I moved in before my roommate, and decided to keep the bunkbeds cause it gave us a lot of space, and chose the bottom bunk. I met him about 6 hours later. He weight 350 lbs. The bed creaked and shook when he climbed in. I offered him bottom, but he never took it. He talked in his sleep all the time, and once I woke up to hear him rapping in his sleep. Other than his terrifying bathroom smells, and the occasional porn watching while I was there (no fapping though, thank God) he was a really cool roommate. He moved out about halfway through the semester though, because he couldn't stand one of the other guys in our mod.
I did call the cops, actually, when I saw the fucking blood all over the walls. Turns out, however, that there's actually nothing technically illegal about redecorating your apt in haemoglobin and plasma, and the cops left.
It's true that the story is more sad than hilarious. I didn't know about his mental illness at the time, just was frightened out of my shit. But yeah, I found out later he had been diagnosed as having experienced a "major schizoid episode" or something to that effect.
Quite possibly the most hilarious thing I've read in awhile.. are you sure this guy was human and not some kind of ape? Sounds like something off a wildlife documentary.
I don't really have a story of my own, so I'll post one from an old friend.
An internet friend of mine once came online after a truly scaring encounter with her roommate.. he was quite the prude apparently, and also occasionally violently homophobic.. until she came home one day to find a gay orgy going on in her front room, with him as the centre of attention. Quite the way to come out of the closet.
Luckily from time to time I get included in that :P
----
The roommate I had over the summer was a frigging wierdo. His mom needed a place to stay for like a week while she found a new place in the city. So we are thinking.. ok.. this kind sucks, but whatever. How bad can she be?
She looked like a troll. She was crippled, a hardcore alcoholic, disgusting to look at/be near, it was terrible. She showed up at 2am one night, just screaming and yelling. She came with all her worldly possessions, which was basically a pile of fucking garbage. After the screaming and yelling I kicked her ass out and didn't let her stay one night in that house while we were there.
A couple nights later she shows up in the back of a police cruiser because she had nowhere to go. Fuck that, ain't staying here, get lost.
So she buys me and my two friends out for the rest of the month, which was nice because we had just acquired a new house, so she basically paid for our rent for 2 weeks in our new place. Apparently the landlord had to buy new locks cause after her half-month was up, she just kinda... stuck around. Her fucking douchebag son moved into a new place and just left her there too.
Some people might remember me griping about this in the chat thread a few weeks ago.
Also, whoever said schizoid episode, it's usually called a psychotic break, and it's not fun at all for the person.
My junior year, there were 4 of us in a suite with two of my friends in one room, me with the random guy we didn't know. First night, he snores. It set the tone for the rest of the year. He would wake up at 5:30-6am and go to breakfast, but he would leave the lights in the room on, despite me asking him to turn them off when he leaves. He wasn't very sociable, and came off as really creepy. He would leave his bar of soap (same one used in the shower) on the bathroom sink. But he would always put it in a different spot, so that by the end of the month, the entire sink was covered in soap. The mirror also got a coating, but that was beyond me. When I asked him to clean it up, he said I should do it since it was also my mess, despite the fact that my bar of soap stayed in the shower with my shampoo. It wasn't just me exaggerating, my dad and other roommates saw it too.
This stuff is just him being a dick, then he got creepy. The shower was connected to the living room, not the bedrooms. When he would take a shower, he would walk out of the bathroom to our room wearing the tinest boxers I've seen a man wear. They looked like they were made for an 8 year old, not a guy who was over 6 feet tall. Then there was the strange fixations with bananas. We got him rubbing the bananas on his face and chest a few times, and once my friend heard painful grunts coming from our room when only the wierd guy was in there. I woke up in the middle of the night once and found him crouched in his tiny underwear by our door. I acted like I was still out of it while he hopped back into his bed. No idea to this day what he was doing. Then I woke up one morning and he was standing over me. I slept with a knife after that. I tried talking to him a few times about cleaning up the sink, he kept coming back with the same childish arguement, which again other people can verify. He even started growling at me. I told him I would go the the RA if he didn't clean his mess up, which he told me to go ahead. The RA actually cleaned it up for him.
I gave up on housing after that. My senior year, I caught a glimpse of him at the top of some outdoor steps while I was talking to a guy in one of my classes. After a few minutes, I went up the steps and I got a glimpse of someone up against the wall just out of sight unless I had turned my head to the left. As soon as I hit the top of the steps he started walking with me. I look up at him and he says hello and angles himself a tad in my path. He also was doing the heavy breathing thing, signaling that he was either trying to intimidate me or he was really excited to see me. He asked me if I had been keeping my bathroom clean, making sure there was no soap on sink. Thanks for the memories UMBC.
The Shitty Roommate
Oh my god read it. Just read PART of it. It's like DBZ+dragonvampiresex. I am not even kidding.
yes
oh my god it's worse than I remembered
the spiders!