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There recently was a thread about awful room-mates, along with pictures. I have my own experience. Housing complex. The units are basically small cottages, made for two room-mates, with a common area and attached kitchen, a small storage closet in the common area containing water pipes leading to Suite A's bathroom. The two private areas of the suite contained a private bedroom, a sliding glass patio door, and a private bathroom. Sounds idyllic. My roomie, Jed, liked to throw parties. He liked tarantulas, too, and kept six. For the sake of saving my effort in recounting this story, here is a basic rundown of the chaos: This run-through of incidents is going to be kind of terse, because I'm working off of a check list I made a while ago. During our stay together, my roomie: He brought his motorcycle into our common room because he was "afraid it would be stolen." This was fine, but then he started it and let it idle for 15 minutes without opening any windows, causing all of our stuff to smell like motor exhaust. After his girlfriend left him, he went berserk in his private bathroom with a sledgehammer or a geologist's hammer and smashed all of his bathroom fixtures. I'm not sure of this but I believe that just before she left him she hosed some guy with pubic lice in my bed during a party. His toilet was inoperative at this point, so he used mine for a time, until I refused him access. Later I would find out that he shat in garbage bags and kept them in the common room closet for weeks. More on this later. He set fire to our carpet with alcohol during a party. He pissed in the fridge. He shat in the fridge. He shat in the crisper drawer. He shat on the oven top, and instead of cleaning it up, turned on the burner, reasoning that carbon is easier to clean than feces. He left a dead cat he found somewhere in our oven for a week and forgot about it. I discovered it later. He owned 6 tarantulas, and would let one run around free-range. He assured me he had "tamed it." I assured him he was a stupid fuckhead. He never showered. He sold drugs from his room. He smoked pot with his friends in the common area. He spilled bong water on two of my text books. He and his friends did cocaine off of the television set in the common area. He had a party to which he invited too many people, and they spilled into my room. Strangers had sex in my room at that party. In my bed. One of them had pubic lice. Someone took a dump in my closet. Someone left a used condom in my slipper. I discovered all of these things after it was too late. Morning after said party, my mother knocked on the front door, and a stranger from that party answered and immediately threw up on her legs. Crackheads would regularly come by our apartment at all hours of the night trying to buy drugs because of his illicit activities. Whenever I answered the door and indicated that there was no crack to be had, they would sometimes get, desperate, belligerent and violent, and refuse to leave. He put food products containing milk, meat and cheese on the heating unit and turned it on for three hours to see what would happen. I could've told him what would happen if he asked me. He got angry at some video game he and his friends were playing in the common area, so he busted into my room while I was sleeping, and punched me in the face and stomach. A few days later he put a tarantula in my bedsheets while I was sleeping. Thankfully I wasn't bitten, but I was freaked out and still sometimes jump out of bed in the middle of the night for no reason and attack my sheets. He shat in a lot of our fixtures. He would put his poo poo in baggies and leave them in strange places. I was thankfull for when he used a baggie. A few words of advice for potential room-mates: A light fixture is not a toilet. A heating vent is not a toilet. The sink is not a toilet. The oven is not a toilet. That is all. I was pissed at this point. He refused to clean or take care of all of the messes listed above, so I ended up cleaning them, but keeping an hourly log and catalogue of what work I did and worked out a bill, which I sent to him. I was tired of cleaning feces out of our refridgerator, finding turds in our crisper drawer, poo poo on the stovetop, vomit on the carpet, vomit in our potted plants, vomit on the grille of our television set, urine on the carpet, urine on the kitchen floor seeping behind the refridgerator, dead animals in our oven and freezer units, and bags of feces hidden in our light fixtures. Have you ever had to move your refridgerator out of its little nook to get behind it to clean urine mixed with whatever the gently caress lurks behind a refridgerator in the first place? After sending him the cleaning bill and getting a refusal of payment, I took some of his stuff, dumped it in a storage unit across town, and held it until he paid me back. He stole some of my stuff in retaliation, but I called the cops and repossessed my belongings. He was unable to articulate to the cops that I had some of his poo poo in this exchange, so I ended up basically getting my poo poo back while he had to be put in their car to cool off. Upon retrospect, I think maybe he became mentally ill after losing his girlfriend, and not being able to part with his feces was part of his illness. This is purely speculative. He wasn't poor. He was from a wealthy family. They don't come into the picture, though. This is where the sealing begins. Put a datemark right here, because this is where poo poo gets crazy. ============================================================================= I had had enough. I bought a minifridge, a plug-in stovetop, two padlocked footlockers, a wooden bar, duct tape, a remote-control car, and an external padlock. My private area had two entrances... Here, I best sum up my little fortress in this post I made in another thread: quote:Actually, upon reflection, I really want to share how I kept my room-mate out of my private area. It was dubbed the "Home Alone" security system. I think he went crazy and lost all his friends at some point, because around the time I barricaded, I stopped hearing parties. In fact, I stopped hearing anything from the common area of the apartment, except for the occasional formless moans and thumping. I don't know precisely what went on in there, because I mentally washed my hands of the whole area. I did, however, start smelling odors. I taped up my door. I know it wasn't smart to do things like this, but I was just loving sick of dealing with his poo poo. I didn't call the landlord or anything, despite the fact that I knew he was destroying things over there. After cleaning so much of his poo poo up, I just wanted the universal god of justice to see what a wreck the place would become without my presence. Forgive me for being a little spotty in my descriptions after this point. What I do know of what transpired over there I can only reconstruct from forensic evidence, what precisely was destroyed, what commmon friends have told me in their accounts, and two forrays over into the waste zone over the next two months. I essentially didn't even see the front door of our apartment during this time. More to come later. ----------------
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Nov 28, 2004 20:19
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| # ? Apr 19, 2024 03:25 |
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Jpgsplzkthx. (USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST) ----------------
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Nov 28, 2004 20:25
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What was this guy's story about making GBS threads on a stove and leaving it on? Or poo poo in the refridgerator? OR poo poo in various fixtures? Why didn't you call the landlord and get this guy kicked out?
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Nov 28, 2004 20:27
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What about the kitchen and laundry areas? Did you not need access to those? Did you have your own bathroom?
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Nov 28, 2004 20:27
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Who would buy drugs from a guy that shits in baggies? :confused: Nice story. It made me throw up in my mouth a little bit; then a lotta bit. ----------------
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Nov 28, 2004 20:27
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quote:ShadowHax came out of the closet to say: This isn't AOL.
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Nov 28, 2004 20:27
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Sounds like a great guy to me.
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Nov 28, 2004 20:30
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Wow. That sounds insane! You have pictures? Whatever the case, I await more...
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Nov 28, 2004 20:30
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I read your posts in the other thread... hilarious story. I'm having a hard time picturing the "Home Alone" security system, though.
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Nov 28, 2004 20:30
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you've got to have taken pictures of this poo poo. post em please.
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Nov 28, 2004 20:33
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quote:ShadowHax came out of the closet to say: What could possibly be so hard about writing out: "Hey, this might be better with pictures. Did you take any?" Anyway, crazy story. I am glad my roomate is not psychotic.
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Nov 28, 2004 20:33
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quote:Shokan came out of the closet to say: The feces he left around falls into three categories: A) Experiments he conducted. The stove top feces thing was an experiment he conducted after his toilet was broken, and I refused him access to mine, and his neighbors got sick of letting him use theirs. I think he was trying to find some new way of getting rid of his poo poo. Either that or he thought it would be funny to make me clean poo poo off of his stove top and then got curious about what would happen if he turned on the burner. He really liked playing with heating elements and fire. It was loving stupid. The dead cat in the oven, I think, falls into this category as well. B) Feces in the refridgerator, poo poo in the closet, vomit on the TV, etc. I lump this into the "OOPS I SHAT ON YOUR CARPET DURING A PARTY" category. C) poo poo inside baggies in various places: After I stopped letting him use my bathroom he got angry and I think this started off as his way of "proving" to me that I should let him use my bathroom. After a while of this I think it started to take on a life of his own, and he started stashing his feces due to some mental illness. This is purely speculative. ----------------
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Nov 28, 2004 20:35
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quote:Martin Random came out of the closet to say: I will admit to this, but the rest is LIES, I tells you, LIES! *goes to poo poo in a random corner* :q:
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Nov 28, 2004 20:37
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quote:Ott came out of the closet to say: Ok, if you've ever owned a sliding door, you know that you can secure it from being opened by putting a wooden dowel in the treads while the door is closed. This is great, except it can't be opened from the outside. So what I did, was I attached a string to the dowel, and lead the string up to the top of the door, through a little loop-nail, and back down to a remote controlled car. By moving the car with a remote control from outside the apartment, I could cause the string to be tugged, raising the dowel, and granting me access to the interior of the apartment. I'm almost more proud of the wire trick, because I gain endless pleasure from that fucker spending hours and hours trying to yank on this stupid dummy wire I put out there for him in order to get inside and mess with my poo poo. ----------------
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Nov 28, 2004 20:38
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I don't know if this will really work since both of you are probably on the lease and you are both 'responsible' for the apartment but it might be worth trying? I would have called the landlord to let him know what your room mate was doing to the place. I would also invite the landlord over and show him that the place has been damaged and you have been a prisoner in your own room because of your weirdo room mate. If you don't, when you move out the landlord might try to charge both of you for repair/cleaning/replacements that he will need to do before he can rent to someone else. I would show the landlord that the room mate did the damage and NOT YOU! At the very least, maybe the landlord will kick both of you out and you can get away from your crazy room mate. Yeh you may have to pay money to get out of the lease or whatever, but if you have the money, save what is left of your sanity and just do it.
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Nov 28, 2004 20:38
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quote:Martin Random came out of the closet to say: Oh wow, that explains it a lot better. That's genius, man. :freeman: Edit: I made a diagram:  Edit 2: Dammit, beaten. The Debian fucked around with this message at 20:54 on Nov 28, 2004 |
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Nov 28, 2004 20:40
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quote:Martin Random came out of the closet to say: Ok, I got here and had to stop for a second. Here is where it GETS crazy? HE poo poo IN YOUR LIGHTS! YOU DON'T DO THAT!
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Nov 28, 2004 20:43
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I'm getting too upset from typing this out, I'm going to take a nap or something and come back and finish up the story.
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Nov 28, 2004 20:44
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I am truly horrified, yet cannot contain my curiosity as to what happened next. Give us more and please address why you didn't just call the loving landlord. Are you some sort of glutton for punishment?
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Nov 28, 2004 20:45
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PLEASE continue. PLEASE.
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Nov 28, 2004 20:45
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quote:nevar4getliz came out of the closet to say:
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Nov 28, 2004 20:46
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quote:Jed Hamilton came out of the closet to say: OH I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE :rolleyes: Martin, that security setup is pure genius.
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Nov 28, 2004 20:46
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quote:Ott came out of the closet to say: OP, is this anything like correct?  thx imageshack kick rear end story, btw
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Nov 28, 2004 20:47
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so basically you have pubic lice now
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Nov 28, 2004 20:48
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Holy poo poo man. That's all I can say and you have such a high tolerence because I would have been out of that apartment and on the phone 24/7 trying to find a way to get his rear end out of there. Just loving crazy.
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Nov 28, 2004 20:49
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quote:tres dessert came out of the closet to say: I think thats right, except the bar should only raise on one side, or else it would continueally block the door.
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Nov 28, 2004 20:50
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this is the best excuse for "how I gave my gf crabs" that I have ever heard.
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Nov 28, 2004 20:52
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quote:tres dessert came out of the closet to say: That's basically correct, except the string attaches to the end of the bar nearest the rear end in a top hat that doesn't know what the gently caress is up, and is actually resting on the treads themselves, on the ground. Pulling the string would tilt the bar up at an angle, allowing the door to be opened. That is actually a very good rendition of Jed freaking out because he doesn't know what is up. Edit: HAHA I just caught that he was making GBS threads himself in that picture. That is actually a VERY good rendition. ---------------- Martin Random fucked around with this message at 20:55 on Nov 28, 2004 |
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Nov 28, 2004 20:52
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quote:sansuki came out of the closet to say: but it could raise the bar all the way up the door eh nvm close enough :)
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Nov 28, 2004 20:53
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Sweet Christ, you've got infinitely more stamina than I ever could have. I'd be running to the landlord the first time I came across poo poo in the vegetable crisper - or anywhere, for that matter. Say again why you stuck around? And I think that drawing of the Home Alone security system is mostly right, but I envisioned it running parallel to the sliding door and the dowel only being lifted up on one end. (beaten a gazillion times...need to learn to type faster :( )
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Nov 28, 2004 20:53
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