Back in college for a while I lived off campus with a friend. It was great when he wasent dating anyone. Because he would find the most bipolar girls in the world. Id come home from work or studying and find a chair sticking in the wall or something else smashed.
The best was one night I came home from work early and open the front door and there for my amusement is my roomate naked bent over a chair and crazyface his girl, also naked, stuffing a soup ladle (handle first) up his butt. Needless to say I started turning red because I was ready to explode with laughter. He had a deer in the headight look in his eyes.I said hello walked past them, went to my room buried my face in a pillow and laughed until I almost threw up. I cried I laughed so hard. Well after about 10 min of that there is a knock at my door its him in his robe. I am still red in the face and crying. He asked me for a favor and that favor was not to tell anyone. I said sure but he would have to tell me why he was doing that. He told me that crazyface wouldnt let him do her up the butt until he knew what it felt like. Made me laugh all over again.
I moved out 4 months after that because of her and her freeloading friends stealing from me, sleeping in my bed. And just driving me insane in general.

Might have to toss out my current roomate soon.

I didn't really have a "crazy" roommate perse but just standard bickering to the point where we couldn't stand to be around one another. My freshman roommate and I got along ok. We were indifferent, didn't have much in common and would have our little Eeyore and Tigger themed dorm together (we both mutually thought it was cute that we both had our own Pooh character as a totum). After that I moved in with a friend and she was really everything a roommate could ask for. We both slacked on dishes but we both hung out, would watch movies, liked cooking and she respected my need to use some of the common space for big final projects (I was an art major, she was pre-med). She was engaged by the end of sophomore year and moved out. So in came "Fern".

I knew this girl in high school. Same circle of friends, nice quiet girl, pretty shy but we were a lot alike. Apparently she had a nervous breakdown at the end of her first year at VT because she was miserable and didn't want to be an engineer. Should have been a red flag right there. So we got together, I worked with her for 4 months working on a portfolio and getting her application together. She got into the school but not the art program. Well. At least she wasn't going to be at a school she hated. She moved in and right off the bat told me that unless I made a strict vegetarian dish she wouldn't partake in any meals with me. I mean, if I made a chicken breast for dinner she would come in and proclaim "Oh my GAWD! It smells like DEATH in here!" She had this tick about rearranging my pillows and cushions in the living room because she didn't like them. She would reverse them so that the beige backs would be visible and not the embroidered fronts. I would keep flipping them back until I would go into my room and discover that she just started dumping them on my easy chair or bed. Hoooo-kay crazy lady, but whatever. She insisted that I was dirty because I wouldn't clean dishes right away (would run hot water over them so food washed away, just didn't 'wash them' yet) and would have clothes on the floor. However, I did laundry once a week so just because they were dirty and my room was cluttered I was at least clean and kept a sanitary living space. Her idea of cleaning was that she'd put things away but never actually cleaned surfaces. So I would find breadcrumbs and oily residues all over the apartment which was a BIG NO-NO in my book because our building had both mice and roaches. She also would do laundry only once a month or every 2 so her wardrobe would smell really bad. She once bought a bag of ice for a party but forgot to put it in the freeze so it melted on the counter. All the water got sopped up by my entire cook book library, to include the Joy of Cooking which was my bible those first years on my own. Me: living a cluttered lifestyle but I managed to keep food sealed up tight. Her: kept things organized but was filthy beneath the surface.

The last straw was the time leading up to finals my last year. I had a package design class and pretty much took over the dining room area (this apartment was sizable enough that we had a large enough living room that we would eat in and watch TV in so this room was more for studying anyway). So I had literally thousands of pieces of painstakingly cut paper in which I had to keep assembling these various boxes and creations. I came home from work one day and found that the work room had been completely cleaned and reorganized with all my paper gone. Two days before my final project was due. She shuffled every scrap into a single trash bag which was dumped in my bedroom. Her last friend came over to hang out that night, which was my friend too, and he had to school her on why you don't f*ck with an art major's sh*t and why that was a crappy thing to do to me. She turned around and told him that she was afraid for her life when I found out about the trash bag.

I should also say that when she moved in with me and started going to my school she got my friends through default. She never managed to make a single friend of her own and even though I had the largest dwelling and ideal party space, almost all of my friends refused to come over because they didn't want to hang out with her or run into her. She was turning into a condescending b*tch at that point too. Well, her last friend in this group moved in when I moved out (she drove me from the place I loved and lived in for 4 years) and he thought I was exaggerating with the weird behavior and her general b*tchiness. He called me up after two months to apologize (he was taking her side in fights too because I was driven to madness at that point) and told me that I had the patience of a saint for having not slapped the smug out of her before moving.

category_five: So many female farkers posting in this thread. Women sure can keep a grudge.

Let's see, my terrible roommates. The Mexican in college that smoked heroin in the dorm room? Actually he was pretty great other than the heroin. That's pretty much it, I guess! Everyone has quirks but they're pretty easy to overlook.

I'm not holding a grudge, I had crazy-ass roommates, and now live on my own. I'm much happier. I can afford it now because I'm not a poor student.

You do have to admit the crazy landlord was doing some bad shiat. He was essentially a slum landlord, racist, paranoid, and tried to keep my damage deposit and the interest it collected, when there was nothing wrong with my room when I moved out. The house I lived in wasn't his only rental unit. He had several in the university town, and a few others in another town. All of the properties were pretty skeevy apparently.

Cheesus:

/still liked him better than the psychology major



Jeez.....that reminded me. Hard a roommate, he was a serious spoiled mamma's boy from a wealthy family. "M", was a psychology major. I'd often come home to find 4-5 people sitting on the couch, with clipboards in hand. They would all stop talking when I came into the house. Sometimes one of them would .."tick" ..mark something on their clipboard. One night we had a kegger with the neighbors, and there they were, all sitting on the couch with their goddamn clipboards. I glared at them since they were seriously harshing our fun, and one would..."tick" ...mark something on the clipboard. Always felt as if I were part of some experiment in roommate case studies.
One day I got a free couch from my girlfriend, her dad gave it to me. He had cats. The couch didn't smell like cats, at least to a human nose. We had the bare minimum of furniture, so it was a nice addition to the living room. "M" decides to let my dog in out of the back yard and leaves him in the living room with the new couch. My dog is a 100 pound Rhodesian Ridgeback.
Who promptly eats the couch.
I opened the front door to a giant mess consisting of the remains of the couch with my dog wagging his tail as if to say, "Hey, I thought there was a cat in here, but GOOD NEWS, there's NO CAT!!!!! *wag*.
"M"'s favorite roommate torture was to lean by me as I was washing my dishes, rinse his hands off in the sink, then flick his wet hands at my back. First time he did it I thought to myself, what the fark, did you just do that? Then he did it again. The last time he tried it, I knew it was coming, and as he was ready to flick, I turned around and caught him in mid-flick.
The guilty look on his yap was priceless.
Other typical roommate stuff... eating my frikkin' ice cream and leaving 1 spoonful, as if, hey, I had some of your ice cream, but yay, I left you some! Never did flush the goddamn toilet either.
He's now a prominent West Coast neuropsychologist.
But you're still a dickhead, M.

ibanezdude: I always wondered whether commuting to university and living with my parents for a couple years afterwards was a smart decision, seeing as I had very little privacy and everyone else was having fun partying away at school. Then I read threads like this and feel a little bit better. Just a little.

Nope that was a crap decision

The Navy graciously gifted me with a variety of unpleasant roomies while I was in the service. Here is another one:

One of the sailors in our division (we called him "the Troll") had a stuffed bunny rabbit that he slept with. He slept wearing only boxers or briefs with the rabbit shoved down into the front of his underwear. We discovered this when he fell out of his rack one night underway during heavy seas. He also was extremely reluctant to take showers. He smelled so bad he couldn't get laid in one of the brothels overseas even though he had a pocket full of cash. The rest of the Division complained about the smell, too, prompting the Chief to put a junior Petty Officer in charge of ensuring Troll-boy took a shower daily. Troll-boy's rack (the bottom rack-closest to the floor) was generally filthy as well, so we started calling the rack above his "the bridge" (because trolls live under bridges). Troll-boy also had frequent nightmares, where he would wake up everyone in the berthing compartment with his screams. The ship's Chaplain assured Troll-boy that we constantly gave him a hard time because we all secretly liked him. Not helping, Chaplain.

One night, Troll returned to the ship drunk (anyone noticing a recurrent theme here?). He collapsed in his rack quietly enough, but got up to pee in the night. Unfortunately for him, the toilets in the nearest Head (bathroom, for you civilian folks) were being worked on at the time (toilets on older ships frequently clogged, requiring the use of fire hoses to blast out the piping), and the head was about three inches deep in brown trout and black water. Troll boy, wearing only socks and shorts, walked right past the sailors blowing out the toilet pipes, waded through the muck to use the urinal, then walked out- tracking unspeakable muck through the passageways. I got the call up in Central, and sent out some people to hunt the troll down and get him cleaned up. I also dispatched a crew to start cleaning up the trail of filth he left behind him. One of the watchstanders found him two decks down, passed out next to a fire-fighting station with his dick in his hand. He spent the next few weekends on "Toilet duty"- replacing the duty personnel who would normally have been required to clear out clogged toilets.

Oddly enough, no one liked him.

/BTW, this is the mental image I get of internet trolls when I encounter them

I have too many crazy roommate stories to tell. The worst was probably Carl, who had been an auto worker, and got laid off, and was using union benefits (or something) to go to school. By "go to school" I mean drink at least a fifth of whiskey a day and do as little else as possible. You don't know what crazy is until you encounter someone who is drunk all the time. Someone who does not know what it means to be sober. Once I came home to find him playing strip poker with three teens from the neighborhood, one guy and two chicks. Everyone else was fully clothed. Carl was stark naked. No explanation as I walked in. Just Carl and three teens at the table, only he's naked. WIth an empty whiskey bottle in front of him.

At one point Carl decided he needed to do some serious work on his engine. In the garage. And he walked in and out of the house repeatedly, across the carpets, trailing dirty motor oil everywhere.

I still feel sorry for our poor landlord. Carl trashed that house (he also kicked in a door at one point). Must have cost her thousands.

And then there was the time that Pepe, another roommate, went to the front door to talk to her. He was normally a good guy, but had just wrapped up his master's degree and gotten stinking drunk the night before. She was on the front step yammering at him about something. And he yakked all over her.

I have now scratched the surface of the surface in telling crazy roommate stories.

Tanukis_Parachute: he (tom) shared a townhouse with two other guys (who i didn't know). the two other guys liked to drink and smoke the mary-jane. well, they also liked to shoot a 22 in their basement. they had put up phone books (stealing them when the phone company put them out) and an old mattress at one end. one day they were drunk and high and were wondering what it was like to be shot. so they agreed that they would shoot each other thru the bicep. so drunk and high roommate number one puts the gun up against the bicep and shoots. roommate two drops like a rock and is in such pain and agony. he goes up the stairs and calls 911 for an ambulance. roommate one feels bad that he did it so he puts the gun to his own bicep and shoots himself. evidently he felt bad because the other guy couldn't do it now and they had made a deal.

i chuckle everytime i think about that story or hear the words drunk and high.

I have partied a LOT and that has never really seemed like a good idea to me. Got married twice though which was very similar to shooting myself.

The Banana Thug: My roommate was this weird ass Filipino guy. Actually, he doesn't appear weird at all. Or didn't do one really big weird thing. Just has a lot of weird anecdotes that just makes him seem, well, really farking weird.

He'd listen to Barry White while doing anything, because he thinks it'd make the event seem that much sexier. He'd comment how he just had the sexiest grocery shopping experience ever after taking his iPod loaded with Barry White tunes.

He used to sneak around and take people's cell phones to set the sax solo part from George Michael's "Careless Whisper" as their new ringtone.



Is this him? Link (new window)

I knew I was in trouble when my freshman roommate was wearing a Howard Jones t-shirt during move in. He used to wake me up and ask me if I was going to the 8 am Chemistry lecture every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Never went except to the 2 exams and the final.

Here's a recent one - it's about my girlfriend, so it might not count. We had just moved in together (it'll help you to know that I'd been living in my own apartment for a while before that). She comes home one day, and I'm in the living room doing work. Mostly I'm pacing in the living room. So I say "hi", "how was your day?", that sort of thing. All she does is stare at me. Turns out she thinks there's something wrong with pacing around the living room completely naked. You just can't help some people.

For a few years I lived in a big rental house off campus with 4 other guys. There were only two bathrooms, one on each floor, but all but one bedroom was on the second floor. So, you have 4 guys sharing a bathroom. Now, yes, it was dirty. Yes it was college "guy house" dirty. Facial hair clippings everywhere, dirty mildewy towels, etc... But the image in your head is nothing compared to what I'm going to tell you.

There was a stack of porn mags on top of the toilet tank. I know, that's pretty greasy to have communal porn mags, but it gets worse. Oh, and these weren't classy mags, either. The girls were mostly 6/10 at best and a lot of them had razor burn on their clams. Anyway, the walls were painted a bright white in the bathroom. Over the years, the wall next to the toilet got a little darker, and started developing a dripping contour to the surface. As time went on, the dark drippy spot got larger and darker. That's when I realized that guys were fapping to porn mags on the toilet and spunking on the wall without even wiping it up. Yep, a jizz covered wall next to a toilet with a stack of porn mags.

When I started dating this one girl, she would spend the night at my place often. She told me that our bathroom was gross, and it made her feel dirty. When I told her what that dark drippy stain was on our wall, she said we had to stay at her place after that. Which we did. She lived in a clean modern house with two other girls. I was OK with that.

She was a shapeshifting vampire. Her father (whom I've never met) was LUCIFER. And once she woke me up at 3am so that I would have the "pleasure" of witnessing her channel the spirit of a dead salem witch.
On the plus side, I've gotten much better at spotting schizophrenia to avoid future occurrences.

BohemianGraham: i moved out, and they accused me of being a dirty slob, and trashing the place, simply because I was from the Maritimes, and they were from Ontario, which was far superior.


Where in the Maritimes? I'm the token dirty drunken Newfie here. Seems that way anyway.

My first apartment, I lived with 2 women.. one I knew well and one I didn't. The one I didn't know seemed a little sorostituty and prissy but seemed nice enough and I figured I'd be able to cohabitate with her just fine..

Yeah, no. Almost immediately upon moving in together, we discovered the level of pants-shiatting crazy we were dealing with. It started as your general roommate squabbles and it pretty quickly escalated to her having screaming fits over trivial and ridiculous things ("You dripped some coffee on the counter and didn't wipe it up immediately and NOW I'M GOING TO GET FOOD POISONING!!!!").

On top of this fairly random rage, it quickly became apparent once school started that she was not going to be attending much class and would rather be sitting in our living room, watching the insanely expensive cable TV package she ordered without consulting us, chain smoking with the windows closed. All day. She'd take occasional breaks to call her mom and ask for money, go buy Coach purses, and then complain about how broke she was.

AND the smelly, whiney biatch was a crazy oversharer. Shortly after starting a new job, I invited my manager over for a beer after work one night to thank him for all the time he had spent training me over the week and she wanders in to our conversation and somehow brings it around to a graphic description of getting raped in high school and her subsequent abortion. Another time, I had a friend over who had a scar on his neck from some recent surgery and she decided it was appropriate to whip her shirt off and show the large scar on her breast from a cyst removal.

Then the constant accusations of theft began.. and weird things... not just like "you took a roll of my toilet paper" but "you stole my boyfriends toothbrush!" and "you stole the sound card out of my computer!". Around this time she had also started befriending a bunch of sketchy-as-fark street kids who hung out around our apartment (we lived on State St. in Madison, if you're familiar..) and inviting them up to hang out and drink. One night I heard a commotion outside my bedroom and went out to find out that some drunk dude that her friend "Spooky" brought up w/ him had been trying to get in to our other roommates bedroom and was screaming about how he just got out of jail and he'll go back if he has to if they don't let him in.

So at this point we're just about at our last straw when she tells us that 5 of her boyfriend's friends will be staying at our apartment one weekend, because the huge frat house where her boyfriend lives and has 7 bazillion couches for people to stay on is "not nice enough". They show up and are obnoxious bros from rural MN who think Madison is Tijuana and get shiat wasted, trash our apartment, yell and scream and generally be obnoxious, invite random people over, and then pass out all over our living room until 3 in the afternoon when it starts again. Sunday morning I get up and survey the damage.. beer cans and shiat everywhere, obvious attempt and fail at making several frozen pizzas in the kitchen, trash left all over... and no microwave. Awesome. So I start picking shiat up and take out all of the trash and am in the process of cleaning all the dishes they use when the roommate appears.. I ask her where the microwave is.. she won't speak to me. This goes on for a few hours. I ask her for the 50th time where the microwave is... she says "You filthy biatches don't deserve to use it, you left it disgusting and it's mine and I took it". It was at that point I lost my shiat and explained to her how much of a farking coont she was, how I had cleaned up after her guests all weekend, how she was a smelly, stupid whore.. etc, etc.

She then proceeded to go out and purchase a mini-fridge and a padlock for her bedroom door, and then empty the apartment of all of her things, including the furniture, which she locked in our storage room (only after stealing the second key from my roommate). She lived locked in her bedroom, not speaking to us, for 3 months and then moved out early and got a very nice subletter. It was the best 3 months of the whole time there.

Oh, and it turns out after her constant and insane accusations of theft that actually she stole a bunch of shiat from my other roommate... and the manipulative biatch didn't steal anything of actual value but instead took a bunch of things that she knew had belonged to the other roommate's mother (who had died of cancer 4 years prior) and had sentimental value, like a quilt she made her and her old pots and pans.

DGS: BohemianGraham: Where to start?

I had a roommate for a month in first year. My roommate was a partying female jock. I'm not a nerd or anything, but I liked going to be by at least midnight, as I had early morning classes. She would come in at 2 in the morning, throwing shiat everywhere cursing loudly. I also went home one weekend, and came back to find that she had hooked up with the guy in the next room, and threw all the trash from that encounter in my bed and trash can, rather than her own. Classy.

She also used to go to class, and leave our dorm room door wide open for anyone and everyone to come in. I came back from class one day, with 5 random people in my room, who informed me that my roommate had gone to class. The last straw with the stupid biatch was Hell Night, where the senior res dwellers "initiated" the frosh. She comes home drunk off her ass, and stops breathing, because she drank so much, that the paramedics are called at 3AM. She then wakes up as they get there, and refuses to go with them. Did I mention that she was still 18 at the time, and wouldn't be 19 for another month? The university then charges her for the ambulance and fines her for underage drinking, and she claims she was going to try to weasle out of it by saying it was a diabetic coma.

One of her friends and I ended up switching rooms; her friend moved in with the roomie, and I got the friend's single room in the worst party section in another res. Annoying, but at least I didn't have to worry about my shiat getting stolen anymore. It was fun living there, despite the shiat covering the bathroom floor, and the used tampons in the halls.

Next year, I moved into a different section in res, and had an asshole neighbour who would complain about the slightest noise, even when I wasn't in the room. He had the RA on his side. He ended up moving out.

It was also a bit of a catty biatch section, as my best friend also lived in it, and had been close friends with the other girls the previou ...

My first roommate literally scared the shiat out of me (imagine waking up to strange people carying your roommate into the room, and then panicking because she's not breathing), and then to have her turn around and brag about it and claiming it was a diabetic coma really pissed me off. Well, she already pissed me off because she didn't give a shiat about me, or respect me, and thought she could do whatever the hell she wanted. She was just a self-centred, shallow, biatch.

I mean, I drink, I've made an ass out of myself while drinking, and made myself sick, but that really took the cake, especially since a 19 year old kid ended up dying from doing the same thing this past September at my undergrad Alma Mater: Vodak thread on Fark (new window).

Actually, you might have read about my first roommate there, as I posted about her in the thread.

The first roommate I ever had was an older guy in his late 30's. He had been living in the "student ghetto" part of town since he graduated college several years earlier and never moved out of his college-era rental. He was nice when I went to the house to check it out before moving in, and we got along OK the majority of the time, but after a while I learned and witnessed some unsettling things. At the time I had just moved six hours north from my hometown and was 21 years old.

Our first landlord was a dumpy old woman who looked like a burlap sack of pork, was the color of a burnt hotdog, smelled like cigarettes and Lysol, and sounded like she ate tobacco and metal shavings. The roommate always talked about her and suggested that I take the nasty old lady out on a date and bang her "just to say that you did it." I told him that since he talks about her so much he might as well do it himself. A few weeks later I came home from work and as soon as I got into the house it smelled like when you dig down into that rotting black sand at the beach. It also smelled like Lysol and weed smoke so I knew immediately that my roommate had our nasty old landlord over. Just as I turned to close to the door and walk around the neighborhood until she was gone, I heard them upstairs going at it. They both stayed in his bedroom for several days and when she left he came bounding up to me and started talking about it. Ugh....he was truly pleased with himself.

About a year later, during a time when he quit his job in a huff (it was because his managers took away their annual allotment of new office furniture), and was asking his mom for money almost weekly, he suddenly vanished. I mean he was at the house from time to time but he was being really evasive. He stopped paying rent and bills, the house was unusually clean and the few times I saw him he had completely changed his wardrobe from something Rusty Venture would wear to something an 18-year old college freshman would wear. One night I came home after the bar, drunk, and got some water from the kitchen; I noticed a pink vinyl purse and some bottles of glitter laying on the counter, plus a tiny girl's jacket on the floor. I went upstairs to the bathroom and saw in the toilet the most disgusting thing I have ever seen before or since. It was a concoction of shiat, piss, used condoms, a pair of ripped panties, and a thick dark mass of blood or something on top. No toilet paper to be seen anywhere in or out of the toilet. I turned around and puked in the bathtub. Right when I was done vomiting I looked at the floor and saw droplets of liquid shiat and blood leading to the door, and just at that perfect moment when I was about to throw up again a girl who was probably not a day older than 14 came into the bathroom. She appeared drunk and she was covered in glitter and her legs were smeared with...santorum, probably.

I quickly washed my mouth out and left the house, drove about ten miles as fast as I could just get away from the place, and sat the thought about it for quite a while. I didn't know what to do. In the end I called some friends and told them about it and then called the cops. I didn't go back home for several days but when I did, the roommate was still there and so was the girl. A week later I received a letter from my landlord (not the dumpy woman, a new guy who was good friends with my creep roommate) saying that I owe my roommate something like $400 for cleaning supplies, paper towels and toilet paper he purchased over the previous year and a half, and that I was being evicted. I happily moved out and moved on. About two years later when I was telling the story to a friend, she said "I know your old roommate. That guy's disgusting. Someone called the police on him once because he was farking a little girl or something but I don't think he got in trouble." I never learned what really happened once the cops showed up.

Other tidbits about this guy:

- His usual diet consisted of only red wine (1-3 bottles a day) and canned tuna. I very rarely saw him eat anything else.

- One night he was drunk and insisted that because I sew for a living I will be much in demand when the country is plunged into chaos after the oil crisis. "People are going to need clothes and things like that."

- He always parked his car outside of the garage because it was full of garbage cans of rice, beans, and flour. A few months later he began to store glass jars of gasoline in there too.

- He liked to wear tropical print shirts, white linen shorts, sandals with black socks, and a big white straw hat in the summer time...it was very funny.

- Despite being gainfully employed for several years he would constantly beg money from his mom and dad. This was usually weekly but sometimes if he had a "big date" or something he would ask for money transfers daily.

- He would spend up to two hours on the toilet when he had to take a shiat. Really annoying.

And that's my story.

Mr. Right: How about an anti-crazy roommate? When I was between wives, I had a great roommate. A fellow I met on a job, had just moved into the area and needed a place to live. I had a 4 BR house all to myself so I allowed as how he could rent a room for a nominal fee. All went well until he lost his job - he sadly informed me that he' have to move out - probably go to a homeless shelter. I was working insane hours at the time so I told him that if he'd take care of the house and lawn, he could stay there rent free until he found a job again. This guy kept the house immaculate, the lawn was manicured, gardens weed-free, he even did my laundry and ironed shirts! He was handy enough to fix any housemanship projects that needed attending to. He got up and made breakfast for me every morning before I had to go to work and, when I got home in the evening, he had a Scotch waiting for me and an appetizer while he made dinner. He wasn't the greatest cook in the world but everything he prepared was very edible. On top of that, he never got annoyed when I went out and came home with a woman - he'd even fix her breakfast if she wanted! I can't even express how disappointed I was when he found another job. Then he found a wonderful lady friend and moved in with her. They eventually married. She is smart enough to realize just how lucky she is.

You qualify as a Human Being as does the roommate.

/ I really hope this a true story.

Space Cadet Netty: BohemianGraham: i moved out, and they accused me of being a dirty slob, and trashing the place, simply because I was from the Maritimes, and they were from Ontario, which was far superior.


Where in the Maritimes? I'm the token dirty drunken Newfie here. Seems that way anyway.

The Land of the Bluenose. Those two were a real piece of work. Douchey McDouchebag was from the outer part of the GTA, and thought he was totally hot shiat. He seriously only went into nursing because he thought it would make him a lot of money. He's the last person you want to be a nurse. His girlfriend was also in nursing, and was just as "charming." I had to clean my pots and pans before I moved out, as he was the dirty slob, not I. I was hardly in my apt once he moved his biatch girlfriend in. I didn't even cook there anymore, I ate out. They literally took over the whole place. It was a 4-bedroom apartment, and you essentially rented a room, and shared the common area. His girlfriend accosted me in front of the rental office one day, about a month after I had moved out. I was waiting to pay rent, and she started screaming at me about how I left the entire place in a mess, I was a dirty pig who left the kitchen in a mess, and that "my" bathroom stunk, and it still stinks because all Nova Scotians apparently are dirty, poor, and so on, and all this other bullshiat, and finally, I stole all their stuff. Rental office witnessed it, and told him, as well as her, that the only reason why she's staying in the place was because of Ontario Tenancy Laws, and she's essentially a squatter, and to leave me the fark alone or the RCMP would be getting involved. Never had to deal with those assholes again after that.


/I readily admit that I did take the brand-new futon that the roomie of 3 days left behind. That roomie moved in, but went home after 3 days due to family emergency, and never came back. She said we could take her stuff. I took the futon when they were out, because they had two of their own, and clearly didn't need it. Also, he was a farking cock, and she was a farking coont, and the amount of shiat I put up from them, I deserved that 150 dollar Wal-Mart futon damnit! (which I still have, although I hardly use it now that I have a REAL couch)

I sleep walked almost weekly in college. My GF and I would go out, drink, have sex, then pass out.

I would wake up quite frequently in other people's beds naked. Sometimes they would find me and wake me up. I probably woke up in 50+ different beds in no less than 40 different dorm rooms my freshman year.

At first it, understandably, creeped people out - but towards the end of my first year, people came to accept it and it even became a big joke.

So yeah - i was the crazy.

Oddly, I haven't slept walked again since I moved out.

I had a couple of them--I had one who was actually schizophrenic, and I took her to the psych ward once when she realized that she was losing it. I liked her though. she was strange but not dangerous.

The one I had to call the police on I didn't know, she just answered an ad to move in my house. I thought she was a little strange when I met her, but figured, so what--it's a big house, we don't even have to see each other except if we're both in the kitchen. So she immediately took over the den area, where she'd sit for hours watching nothing but G-rated movies that she'd gotten from the library. Once the electricity went out, and when I knocked on her bedroom door with some candles, she answered the door shielding herself like she was naked, even though she was wearing full baggy flannel pajamas. She also put a lock on her door as soon as she moved in.

She boiled stuff all over the stove and never wiped any of it up. When I told her she needed to do a little better than that, she told me that there wasn't anything to wipe it up with, even though I kept the usual kitchen stuff there and I keep a clean kitchen. I came home one day and discovered that she'd run a full wash machine cycle to wash one wash cloth. But it was the parking that finally brought the police. She had a problem with parking in the driveway, because apparently she couldn't back up. (We had a nice big yard, this wasn't in the city.) She complained that I parked in the garage, even though it was my house. So she kept doing U-ees to get out of the driveway, which quickly wore out all the grass because we were in the desert. When I asked her to please just back up like the driveway was meant to be used, she went into a rage and went outside and ran over a bunch of cacti, which she had to have mad skills to to even hit, since they were in between two big metal posts. Then she came back in, planted herself at my kitchen table, and proceeded to rant and rave about how I was a spoiled brat who parked in the garage and spent my money on pop. And how I thought I was such hot shiat because I was in college and who did I think I was anyway, and my mommy had wiped my ass my whole life (she didn't even know who my mother was, and we were not friendly)......

Since I have a psycho ex, I recognized the signs, so I told her that she was gone. Then I went outside and called the police. The sheriff came out (a pretty nice guy, thank god) and told me that I couldn't evict her just like that because she'd paid rent, unless she agreed to go. So she came outside and said that she'd leave (after telling the cop all the numerous ways that I'd assaulted her dignity), if I'd pay her back the entire month's rent, which I probably didn't have, since I spent all my money on pop. With the cop mediating, we agreed on a number, and I went and got some money for her. Then I guarded my room while she packed, and after a while she started apologizing like mad and telling me that she didn't mean to be that way and she was sorry, but I had to know......I stayed the fark away from her, because I already have PTSD and I was shaking and about to flip out myself. She took the lock off her door and set it at my feet like an offering. I told her I hoped that she figured out whatever it was that made her crazy and got some help, but she wasn't going to take it out on me. And I slept with the doors locked for a week after that.

After she was gone I went in to clean out her room and discovered all these weird little notes, maybe meant for me, maybe not. None of them made much sense.

We knocked a hole in the wall downstairs.

Then the 3 of us shiat in the hole in the wall.

Then we sealed it back up

True story too

oh god, laughing too hard to read more, must come back later...

I had a roommate once who *found* people who had committed suicide a little too often for comfort. He 'found' one of his oldest friends in the mans house, who had apparently died from auto erotic asphyxiation. Then a few months later he 'found' a guy who had hung himself from a tree out in the middle of nowhere. I forget the details of the third one, but again it was asphyxiation-related. Nothing beats living with the question of 'is this guy unlucky, or a serial killer?'.

glassbottomboatcaptain: I had a roommate once who *found* people who had committed suicide a little too often for comfort. He 'found' one of his oldest friends in the mans house, who had apparently died from auto erotic asphyxiation. Then a few months later he 'found' a guy who had hung himself from a tree out in the middle of nowhere. I forget the details of the third one, but again it was asphyxiation-related. Nothing beats living with the question of 'is this guy unlucky, or a serial killer?'.

Well, all the suicides could have sodomized themselves with a broom handle first, for one thing.

Only two I guess that fit the bill.

2nd year in college, roommate was heavily Christian, would always listen to Christian Rock (Faith +1 type of stuff) and had DOZENS of visible, permanent cut scars on his forearms, that he would get by cutting himself and then smearing shiat into them. Also, he was a little TOO into the movie American Psycho (would watch it every week). He had the business card scene memorized to the word. By the way, this was at military college. How he got in I have no idea. He was gone by the end of that year.

Summer of 3rd year, living with my gf at the time and her lesbian best friend. Huge potheads, wasn't a major problem though, as the friend would bring home some interesting characters. The most noteworthy event was us three having dinner on the roof of the apartment building and somehow a three-way BJ resulted. Not nearly as practical as you'd think.

My sophomore year college roommate. The day I moved in I open the door to find him in a clown getup and smiling. I just stared. He said we're out of toilet paper. Then honked his clown nose twice.

I got one for y'all, sadly it's 100% true. Prepare for grossination.

Guy I went to high school with called me & my roomies out of the blue, about 5 years after graduation, looking for a place to crash while passing through Ottawa on his way out west. None of us liked the dude so we hung up on him.

Six months later, and with a new crew of my homies, he calls again, in the middle of the night. The guy who picked up remembered him too, and used to be semi-friends with him, and tells him to stop on by. With that, he made himself a part of the crew.

He had really turned into a skeez by then - putting 'anything goes' ads in the local mags, hanging round the porn stores, really sketchy women. Anyways, one day I'm home from work, no one around, chilling on my couch. I notice there's a lump under one of the cushions, so I see what it is. Aha, a porn digest (more stories than pics, basically). I start into the first story and immediately wish I hadn't - it's all 'So mommy came into my room when I was doing homework, and then.... And then sis comes in and... And then dad comes in and then....'

It turns out he was on the lam from the cops back home - he had being sexually abusing a retarded boy, and had a Canada-wide warrant out for his arrest. Unfortunately, I never found that out until well after I moved back home, and as far as I know, he's still out there somewhere. If you want his name, just ask.

Well lets see. She'd leave her huge d*ldo on her bedside table right inside the door to her room. She'd draw pentagrams on the patio with chalk and do 'spells'. And she carved my ex's and my initials in a big phallic candle and left it in the living room. She said she was trying to get my ex and I back together.

Other than that, she was nice and easy to live with. :)

CavalierEternal: My first roommate and I used to take turns doing to dishes.

By "take turns", I mean that I would take my turn and then she would leave her dishes in the sink for weeks (up to seven weeks at one point) at a time until the smell became so unbearable that I'd break down and do them myself.

I had a roommate like this, two of them, actually. The first, however, ended up in a standoff situation in which I didn't touch the dishes for probably three months. The fruit flies in the kitchen were so bad it was basically abandoned. Then he started using the bathroom sink to dump out his ramen...so three hours and one trash can full of vomit later, he came home to a cockpunt.

The best part is that the first and second roommate both always blamed the state of the apartment on me, even though one resulted in a fruit fly/roach infestation, and the other had a habit of hording rotting food.

dj_spanmaster: WTF is a 12 year old doing with a vibrator?

same thing her mom is.

My freshmen college roommate did all of the following during the first semester:

Told females the clean side of the room (my side) was his side and the dirty side (his side) was his.

Had sex in the bed on the "clean side" at least twice and was caught in the act on one of those occasions.

Got drunk and pissed in a potted plant I was growing for extra credit.

Woke me up the night he decided to experiment with a guy.

Introduced me to midget, granny and prego porn.

Wore my underwear on numerous occasions, putting them back in my drawer, dirty or throwing them away afterwards.

Bathed once a week, if that, and used my toiletries to do so.

Used my toothbrush at least once.

Vomited on me (well, my blanket) while I was asleep and passed out on me.

NEVER stopped masturbating when I walked in on him, and also thought that it was okay to do it even if I were already in the room.

Threw the best and worst parties in our 10' X 12" room.

On no fewer than 3 occasions asked me to check him out for an STI because my majoring in biology, to him, meant that I was qualified to know such things. After one such time, he asked me if I would join him and some chick in a threesome because she had "never been with a black guy."

Had sex with an English professor's 16-year-old daughter (hopefully not in my bed/he was 17 at the time).

Played a game called brown billy with his baseball teammates. (think about it...)

*** And Now ***

Is now an associate attorney at a growing law firm in Atlanta, is married and has twins on the way, and I actually have love for the guy...

I have many crazy roommate stories.

I don't think any of them frequent FARK, so here is one.

One of my roommates, the little man, brought home a girl that he met at a bar. She stayed for a while after that... like three months. She would walk around the house either naked or in panties and bra. Which at first was great, because she had a nice body and was easy on the eyes. It became uncool, when I would bring home girls and there was this naked chick sitting on the couch. I don't know what they would think but it kinda wrecked shiat for me.

When the two of them moved out, she got a photo shoot for playboy's college edition. The little man changed all the photos in the apartment to be of him and his buddies, so that he could prove it was his gf.

dj_spanmaster: dj_spanmaster: I think I'm the crazy roommate in most cases, but there are two exceptions.

One: The roommate asked me to get a new set of batteries for her and her daughter's vibrators. I didn't ask if they shared.

Two: Another roomie tried luring wild animals into my house, and actually succeeded with a raccoon. We soon parted ways.

I should add that the daughter was 12. WTF is a 12 year old doing with a vibrator?

Masturbating

Girlfriend at a time had a roommate who got caught, uh, in her lab.
I was more hurt than anything else. She never even looked in my direction.

ritalinchild 54: Mr. Right: How about an anti-crazy roommate? When I was between wives, I had a great roommate. A fellow I met on a job, had just moved into the area and needed a place to live. I had a 4 BR house all to myself so I allowed as how he could rent a room for a nominal fee. All went well until he lost his job - he sadly informed me that he' have to move out - probably go to a homeless shelter. I was working insane hours at the time so I told him that if he'd take care of the house and lawn, he could stay there rent free until he found a job again. This guy kept the house immaculate, the lawn was manicured, gardens weed-free, he even did my laundry and ironed shirts! He was handy enough to fix any housemanship projects that needed attending to. He got up and made breakfast for me every morning before I had to go to work and, when I got home in the evening, he had a Scotch waiting for me and an appetizer while he made dinner. He wasn't the greatest cook in the world but everything he prepared was very edible. On top of that, he never got annoyed when I went out and came home with a woman - he'd even fix her breakfast if she wanted! I can't even express how disappointed I was when he found another job. Then he found a wonderful lady friend and moved in with her. They eventually married. She is smart enough to realize just how lucky she is.

You qualify as a Human Being as does the roommate.

/ I really hope this a true story.

It is completely true. He really is a great human being. When he was living "rent-free," he worked as hard as he did out of gratitude and a sense of trying to repay me for what he perceived as my overwhelming kindness. Figure it out: I was paying the mortgage whether I had a roommate or not, the utilities were the same - the only thing he cost me was some food. In return, I got a great live-in butler. Because he wasn't eligible for unemployment payments, he had absolutely no income, so I would give him gas money, he bought all the groceries so I gave him money for that, and I gave him some spending money. After he found a job, he started trying to pay me back the spending money - which he had carefully kept track of, deducting out the cost of groceries, etc. I had to tell him that I was insulted that he wanted to pay me back, given the superb job he had done and the fact that he had gone above and beyond my every expectation of what he'd be doing in return for rent. He was nearly reduced to tears. He's the kind of guy you love to be nice to. As opposed to some of my relatives who, no matter how much you give them, it is never enough unless you give them everything you have - and then you'd better go make more so you can give them that as well.

But having rambled on about that, I hope that a lot of the stories in this thread aren't true. Or at least being told with a bit of hyperbole.

rickythepenguin: my first college roommate was an oddball......he was an architecture major and he was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaay too attached to his mom. he called her (or she him) pretty much every day. the conversations - pre ipod era, small room - ended like this:


"ok! kisses!"

(her)

"mwah! kissy boy!"

(her)

"me too! kissies! mwah mwah mwah!"

(her)

"Kissy! Kissy mwah mwah kissy boy!"


I still go by the apartment when i'm in tucson. farking ratshack hasn't changed a BIT. seriously.

just googled him. he's out there. as we all are.

DUDE. I think I lived with that guy too. Seriously, you matched the major, the city, and the creepy mom-love.

Jake Havechek: I had to go to court three times to get rid of a geniune nutbag roommate. Clinically speaking, she was a farking whack-a-loon. The whole sordid story is so messed up I get the timeline confused to this day.

When she was hauled off for the last time, we had at least 5 cop cars, an ambulance and a police van parked on the street because the radio call piqued all the cops and they wanted to see what was going on. It was a farking travesty. Farking horrorshow.

We eventually found out later that she was the "odd daughter" in this very rich family that was paid a stipend by her own family to stay away from them. Farking 'Pacific Heights' and shiat without the violent stuff.

It's kinda funny now, but nobody believes that stuff like that will happen to them until it actually does.

Please, please elaborate.

sharpiegreed: Jake Havechek: I had to go to court three times to get rid of a geniune nutbag roommate. Clinically speaking, she was a farking whack-a-loon. The whole sordid story is so messed up I get the timeline confused to this day.

When she was hauled off for the last time, we had at least 5 cop cars, an ambulance and a police van parked on the street because the radio call piqued all the cops and they wanted to see what was going on. It was a farking travesty. Farking horrorshow.

We eventually found out later that she was the "odd daughter" in this very rich family that was paid a stipend by her own family to stay away from them. Farking 'Pacific Heights' and shiat without the violent stuff.

It's kinda funny now, but nobody believes that stuff like that will happen to them until it actually does.

Please, please elaborate.

I don't know if I can do that now, maybe after I've had a few drinks in me. I'll have to change some of the incidents slightly to protect the innocent if anybody else actually knows this person. I assume she's got to be in some kind of assisted living situation now because she was unable to take care of herself and neither were any of us.

I had a dorm roommate my first year of college who was crazy slutty. Her sheets could have slithered off the bed and wandered down the hall in search of an ovum.

This is why I love Fark...

/ I came
// I laughed
/// I cried

/ ...then came again...

m3d_stud3nt: My freshmen college roommate did all of the following during the first semester:

Told females the clean side of the room (my side) was his side and the dirty side (his side) was his.

Had sex in the bed on the "clean side" at least twice and was caught in the act on one of those occasions.

Got drunk and pissed in a potted plant I was growing for extra credit.

Woke me up the night he decided to experiment with a guy.

Introduced me to midget, granny and prego porn.

Wore my underwear on numerous occasions, putting them back in my drawer, dirty or throwing them away afterwards.

Bathed once a week, if that, and used my toiletries to do so.

Used my toothbrush at least once.

Vomited on me (well, my blanket) while I was asleep and passed out on me.

NEVER stopped masturbating when I walked in on him, and also thought that it was okay to do it even if I were already in the room.

Threw the best and worst parties in our 10' X 12" room.

On no fewer than 3 occasions asked me to check him out for an STI because my majoring in biology, to him, meant that I was qualified to know such things. After one such time, he asked me if I would join him and some chick in a threesome because she had "never been with a black guy."

Had sex with an English professor's 16-year-old daughter (hopefully not in my bed/he was 17 at the time).

Played a game called brown billy with his baseball teammates. (think about it...)

*** And Now ***

Is now an associate attorney at a growing law firm in Atlanta, is married and has twins on the way, and I actually have love for the guy...

My dad is a lawyer here in Ga and he may know him. EIP. Please, I gotta know.

I'll give you one hint: she had the same name as Lamb Chop's puppeteer and and from thence forth she gained the prefix "crazy".

The horror.........the horror.....