Horror Housemates

[Johno6]

I could go on but i recommend never living with other people that aint blood or your rooting.

Mate, nothing can be assured of there either.

so let me get this traight...
u guys are telling me I should start having sex with my housemate?

ill try tonight, see what he says and get back to u guys tomorrow.

[Lightning McQueen]

I could go on but i recommend never living with other people that aint blood or your rooting.

Mate, nothing can be assured of there either.

so let me get this traight...
u guys are telling me I should start having sex with my housemate?

ill try tonight, see what he says and get back to u guys tomorrow.

Sex with male housemates is a pain in the arse.

[Booney]

I could go on but i recommend never living with other people that aint blood or your rooting.

Mate, nothing can be assured of there either.

so let me get this traight...
u guys are telling me I should start having sex with my housemate?

ill try tonight, see what he says and get back to u guys tomorrow.

No, I'm saying that you may well be in an intimate relationship, but it does not assure you that the housemate is easy to live with....

[nuggety goodness]

I could go on but i recommend never living with other people that aint blood or your rooting.

Mate, nothing can be assured of there either.

so let me get this traight...
u guys are telling me I should start having sex with my housemate?

ill try tonight, see what he says and get back to u guys tomorrow.

Sex with male housemates is a pain in the arse.

LM, is that a confession mate?!?

[Media Park]

Sex with male housemates is a pain in the arse.

That could be an unreal signature...

[OnSong]

I could go on but i recommend never living with other people that aint blood or your rooting.

Mate, nothing can be assured of there either.

so let me get this traight...
u guys are telling me I should start having sex with my housemate?

ill try tonight, see what he says and get back to u guys tomorrow.

Sex with male housemates is a pain in the arse.

Not after a while.

[Lightning McQueen]

LM, is that a confession mate?!?

Just sounded good at the time, no banana's in my exhaust pipe mate.

[Johno6]

Not that there's anything wrong with that!!

[nuggety goodness]

Not that there's anything wrong with that!!

well actually...

[fisho mcspaz]

OK, to elaborate on this bloke I lived with in 2006...

I didn't know he was going to move in. My mate, whom I lived with, had been in a relationship with him for all of two days. But suddenly there he was. And he WAS, if you know what I mean. He was in the study on the second floor at four in the morning, blasting Terra Firma out of his boom box ('I think you'll really like this next one, Fisho') while I'd be wild-eyed and jittering on six cans of Red Bull, trying to write a three-thousand word essay on the Holocaust. He was in the kitchen drinking all my beer while I spent two hours preparing dinner - and then he'd go down the bottle-o, buy some more beer, and expect me to pay him money if I wanted one. He was in the loungeroom, playing my PS2 and erasing my slots on the memory card. He was always there, in the background, smoking and glowering and generally making his presence felt.

I suppose it was partly my fault - I'd met him at uni and introduced him to my mate. But I didn't know that she'd end up having a sexual relationship with him! Then again, I don't know why it hadn't occurred to me - she wasn't the best judge of character and I should have heard the warning bells when she said 'I really feel sorry for Mike*, he's living on his own and he doesn't know how to cook. I'm going to go around there and make him dinner.'

Fortunately he tended to pull his head in around Mr McSpaz. They'd gone to high school together, where Mr McSpaz was a big football hero and Mike was just this prickly little oddball. He'd been quite intimidated by Mr McSpaz and had always looked up to him. Anyway, when they met again at our place, after six or seven years, MM's first words were 'Hey, I know you! You're - um - Kev!' His name wasn't Kev. Fifteen-year-old MM had started calling him that because he thought Mike looked a little bit like Fred Savage. The name had stuck and Mike had hated it.

MM hadn't meant to call him Kev this time, though, he just couldn't remember Mike's real name. But in hindsight I'm glad that he did, because somehow the name 'Kev' re-established the old high-school social hierarchy in an instant. Mike was still intimidated by him. 'Good bloke, Mr McSpaz,' he said earnestly to me later that night. 'Dunno why he calls me Kev but he's a good bloke. I never thought in a million years he'd one day talk to me like an actual mate, fair dinkum. He never picked on me or nothing at school, but his mates did.'

So I got off pretty lightly, when all was said and done. The worst thing Mike did to me, apart from the perennial scowling and stomping around, was when I'd leave something on the lounge room floor or in the bathroom. Angus was eighteen months old at the time, and it was hard to remember to pick up EVERYTHING when I was trying to look after him, do my uni work and whatever cooking and cleaning had to be done. (I'll just digress for a minute and explain why I was living with these people when I had a child to raise. When I split from my husband, I came home to Australia and lived with my parents. We didn't get along and when I started seeing Mr McSpaz they hit the roof, because separation or not, I was still legally married; the divorce didn't go through until the following year. I had to find a place to live and my friend said that I could stay with her if I didn't mind sharing a bedroom with Angus. I couldn't stay with Mr McSpaz because he lived in a tiny two-room flat in Coro and it was hardly big enough for him, let alone three of us. Whenever we did stay over, we were always having to move the furniture into whatever room we weren't using at the time so that we could fit in Angus' portacot.) Anyway, Mike would gather up whatever I'd left on the floor and put it in my bed. Sometimes I'd come home with groceries and put the bags down on the floor, and instead of putting them away, Mike would put them in my bed. I gave Angus a bath and left the old nappy and the towel on the floor while I went and got him dressed. Ten minutes later I found them in my bed. He didn't give me much of a chance to clean them up! But I got him back. One night he was completely s***faced and left all his empties and stuff on the landing outside his room - I waited for him to go outside and then I put the whole lot in his bed. I hope they leaked everywhere. He never did it to me again.

But Mike was horrible to my friend - his girlfriend - he would get drunk and violent. He would shout at her and push her around, often in front of guests, he just didn't care. And if the guests had brought alcohol, if he got in a rage he would just carry it off with him and drink it. I confronted him about this once and he said 'I'm f***ing annoyed. I'm in a bad mood. I think that's a bigger problem than my drinking someone else's piss. I don't care at all about that.' I suppose the only redeeming quality about him was that he was always very kind to Angus. I was glad of that because I was having no luck at all finding another place - I'd even tried the caravan parks - and if he'd carried on like this in front of Angus, we'd have had to live in my Daewoo or squash ourselves into Mr McSpaz's miniscule flat. In the end, that was pretty much what I did anyway - my friend, blinded by love, decided that Angus and I were getting in the way. We were responsible for Mike's dreadful mood swings; he was unhappy because he never got to spend any romantic time with my friend. We had to go. So it was back to my parents' place and the war zone. At least by then they'd actually reconciled themselves to the fact that I was in another relationship, and they came to like Mr McSpaz very much in a short time - and now they can't stop saying how great he is and how lucky it was that I ended up with him. But we didn't get along any better than we ever had and so I ended up with Angus in MM's flat for most of the time, only coming home at intervals when the claustrophobia threatened the relationship. It was a huge relief when we managed to find a sizable house for us in Old Reynella.

I think my friend and Mike lasted a further week after I moved back in with my parents. They had a predictably drunken, abusive, messy breakup. Before he left, he spat in her bed and took various items of clothing, video games and whatever else he thought was valuable. Then he moved up to Queensland to look after his sister, who was in a mental hospital for mental illness related to heroin addiction. The following year we heard that there was a warrant out for him in Queensland for attempted murder - he beat up a bloke quite badly in a pub brawl. He came back to SA and did the same thing there - in between ringing up my friend/his ex and threatening her - and again in WA. Some people just don't learn from their mistakes. I don't know where he is now but he won't come back here if he knows what's good for him.


*not his real name but it'll suffice. I would prefer not to put his real name. He is, after all, wanted for attempted murder in three states.

[mighty_tiger_79]

sounds like exciting times Fisho!

[Psyber]

Same here, nothing to contribute...never shared a house...I lived in barracks until I bought my own place.
Regards
JAS

I've never been in a house sharing situation either, if you don't count living with a wife.
I did stay in a long house in Borneo for several days though, some years ago.
[Sarawak, up the River Skrang, near the Kalimantan border.]

[Media Park]

To top off last night, and my moaning on the Sh1ts thread about this current housemate:

About half an hour after starting this "Horror Housemates" thread, Miss Little Ray of Sunshine goes to bed, or so she tells me, only to pop back downstairs about two minutes later, as her significantly-older-current-significant other, has decided to come over, and upstairs they go...

Now small background... Ray of Sunshine has a two year old boy. Beautiful funny young lad, who loves me to death .
When he is put to bed, the noisy a/c has to go off, the tv has to be turned down, and I have to become a little churchmouse- which doesn't bother me too much...

Anyway, they go upstairs to her room, and I hear her telly come on quite loud... If I can hear it from downstairs, it would've woken her lad, who only had my room in-between his, and Ray of Sunshines.

A couple of hours later, the telly is off, so I think it's safe to go to bed...

I get upstairs (being about midnight by this stage), and what do I hear, but "bedroom noises!"



Anyway, shortly into this endeavour, Junior Sunshine wakes up crying...

Expecting the antics to stop, and housemate to go and soothe her child, I wait, and wait, and wait, before eventually going and calming him myself!

Nothing stopped this woman, or her partner (who is 11 years older and has his own kiddies), from their fun, even though the lad was bawling his eyes out...

Next morning (this morning), I go downstairs, and there's Ray of Sunshine, acting like nothing happened, complaining that she is so tired, and how hard her life is...

[mighty_tiger_79]

you should have told her that if she wasny up all night long she wouldnt be so tired

[Alaska]

I once lived in Islamabad and the house had 7 bedrooms that were taken by 3 Aussies, 2 Poms and 2 Paki’s.
The Pakistanis were educated in Britain and America.
We had staff, you know servants, chef, driver, etc.
My first meal I had when I arrived was curried omelette for breakfast (I thought this is going to be interesting). The Poms were always demanding that the curries should be hotter. This did not worry us as the poor chef was never were able to make them too hot (she would just take the abuse each night).
The real annoying bit was when we finished work for the day the Locals would dive in front of the TV and watch World Championship Wrestling for the rest of the night on full volume. This can become very annoying especially day on day. I would go for a walk around the suburb which had its own challenges with bookies, beggars, thieves, bears and leopards all interacting, but far more comfortable than trying to deal with the Locals and their mates who all thought WCW was REAL!
The country was crazy about it with several pay channels from India available.
Even the International airports have it blaring all day. (I know I have spent several days in them).

[sherminator]

I spent a number of years in the UK working in hotels/pubs/restaurants. Due to the generally poor wages in the UK hospitality industry, many establishments provide free or discounted accomodation for staff. Whilst this was good for socialising and saving money, you have no choice as to who you have to live with, and I lived with some very strange housemates at times. I could probably write a book (or hire Fisho to write it for me) about a lot of the characters I lived and worked with over the 6 or so years I lived there. Here is a brief selection:

Davide: The Italian waiter I worked with in Nottingham who used to walk around our house wearing only leopard print jocks. He was a massive Juventus fan (his Father played for them) and he would smash plates, glasses, chairs etc. whenever the opposition scored.

The half Spanish/ half South African bloke and his Spanish girlfriend who lasted less than a fortnight in the job/house. A devout Christian, he would walk around the house with his bible trying to convert me and my other housemate. He pulled down the rather tasteful poster of a bikini clad Nell McAndrew from the living room wall and burnt it as it was 'sinful'. I woke up one morning on my day off to hear his girlfriend screaming. I walked into their room to find him beating the crap out of his girlfriend. With a bit of help from the ex-Royal Marine neighbour (the Saffa was a big bugger!) he was out on his bum. It turns out his girlfriend was a Ukrainian illegal immigrant with a fake Spanish passport.

My personal favourite ... Kelvin another South African. In our house there was a Scottish waitress Marie. Kelvin was quite a shy bloke and Marie was very kind to him. He told me one night that he fancied her because he thought her accent was sexy. I explained that she had a boyfriend so nothing was ever going to happen. The next day I was at work when Marie came in looking white as a ghost. I asked her wha happened. kelvin had entered her room wanting to 'chat'. He asked her to close her eyes and just talk. She reluctantly agreed. After a minute she opened her eyes to see him with his pants around his ankles flogging himself off. Needless to say he got the sack too!

[Iron Fist]

I spent a number of years in the UK working in hotels/pubs/restaurants. Due to the generally poor wages in the UK hospitality industry, many establishments provide free or discounted accomodation for staff. Whilst this was good for socialising and saving money, you have no choice as to who you have to live with, and I lived with some very strange housemates at times. I could probably write a book (or hire Fisho to write it for me) about a lot of the characters I lived and worked with over the 6 or so years I lived there. Here is a brief selection:

Davide: The Italian waiter I worked with in Nottingham who used to walk around our house wearing only leopard print jocks. He was a massive Juventus fan (his Father played for them) and he would smash plates, glasses, chairs etc. whenever the opposition scored.

The half Spanish/ half South African bloke and his Spanish girlfriend who lasted less than a fortnight in the job/house. A devout Christian, he would walk around the house with his bible trying to convert me and my other housemate. He pulled down the rather tasteful poster of a bikini clad Nell McAndrew from the living room wall and burnt it as it was 'sinful'. I woke up one morning on my day off to hear his girlfriend screaming. I walked into their room to find him beating the crap out of his girlfriend. With a bit of help from the ex-Royal Marine neighbour (the Saffa was a big bugger!) he was out on his bum. It turns out his girlfriend was a Ukrainian illegal immigrant with a fake Spanish passport.

My personal favourite ... Kelvin another South African. In our house there was a Scottish waitress Marie. Kelvin was quite a shy bloke and Marie was very kind to him. He told me one night that he fancied her because he thought her accent was sexy. I explained that she had a boyfriend so nothing was ever going to happen. The next day I was at work when Marie came in looking white as a ghost. I asked her wha happened. kelvin had entered her room wanting to 'chat'. He asked her to close her eyes and just talk. She reluctantly agreed. After a minute she opened her eyes to see him with his pants around his ankles flogging himself off. Needless to say he got the sack too!

haha

typical Italian!

I hope you lads really sinked the boots into that bloke, hitting a chick isnt on

Kelvin is definately the funniest. bit weird aswell though!

[Lightning McQueen]

I spent a number of years in the UK working in hotels/pubs/restaurants. Due to the generally poor wages in the UK hospitality industry, many establishments provide free or discounted accomodation for staff. Whilst this was good for socialising and saving money, you have no choice as to who you have to live with, and I lived with some very strange housemates at times. I could probably write a book (or hire Fisho to write it for me) about a lot of the characters I lived and worked with over the 6 or so years I lived there. Here is a brief selection:

Davide: The Italian waiter I worked with in Nottingham who used to walk around our house wearing only leopard print jocks. He was a massive Juventus fan (his Father played for them) and he would smash plates, glasses, chairs etc. whenever the opposition scored.

The half Spanish/ half South African bloke and his Spanish girlfriend who lasted less than a fortnight in the job/house. A devout Christian, he would walk around the house with his bible trying to convert me and my other housemate. He pulled down the rather tasteful poster of a bikini clad Nell McAndrew from the living room wall and burnt it as it was 'sinful'. I woke up one morning on my day off to hear his girlfriend screaming. I walked into their room to find him beating the crap out of his girlfriend. With a bit of help from the ex-Royal Marine neighbour (the Saffa was a big bugger!) he was out on his bum. It turns out his girlfriend was a Ukrainian illegal immigrant with a fake Spanish passport.

My personal favourite ... Kelvin another South African. In our house there was a Scottish waitress Marie. Kelvin was quite a shy bloke and Marie was very kind to him. He told me one night that he fancied her because he thought her accent was sexy. I explained that she had a boyfriend so nothing was ever going to happen. The next day I was at work when Marie came in looking white as a ghost. I asked her wha happened. kelvin had entered her room wanting to 'chat'. He asked her to close her eyes and just talk. She reluctantly agreed. After a minute she opened her eyes to see him with his pants around his ankles flogging himself off. Needless to say he got the sack too!

Are Kelvin's actions frowned upon in the UK?

[Pseudo]

My personal favourite ... Kelvin another South African. In our house there was a Scottish waitress Marie. Kelvin was quite a shy bloke and Marie was very kind to him. He told me one night that he fancied her because he thought her accent was sexy. I explained that she had a boyfriend so nothing was ever going to happen. The next day I was at work when Marie came in looking white as a ghost. I asked her wha happened. kelvin had entered her room wanting to 'chat'. He asked her to close her eyes and just talk. She reluctantly agreed. After a minute she opened her eyes to see him with his pants around his ankles flogging himself off. Needless to say he got the sack too!

Are Kelvin's actions frowned upon in the UK?

Such actions are only frowned upon when committed by George Michael

[JK]

My personal favourite ... Kelvin another South African. In our house there was a Scottish waitress Marie. Kelvin was quite a shy bloke and Marie was very kind to him. He told me one night that he fancied her because he thought her accent was sexy. I explained that she had a boyfriend so nothing was ever going to happen. The next day I was at work when Marie came in looking white as a ghost. I asked her wha happened. kelvin had entered her room wanting to 'chat'. He asked her to close her eyes and just talk. She reluctantly agreed. After a minute she opened her eyes to see him with his pants around his ankles flogging himself off. Needless to say he got the sack too!

Are Kelvin's actions frowned upon in the UK?

Such actions are only frowned upon when committed by George Michael

It doesn't come naturally to him though, he has to faucet