Brett MaverixMy flatmate is a dickhead
Yeah I know we've all heard a few stories about the flatmate from hell and most of us have probably experienced some form of co-habitation rage but I've got to tell you how much of a dickhead my flatmate is.
I'm serious. This guy is fucked.
And for the record, before I launch into this, he's one of those 'I just need a place to crash for a week or so while I look for my own pad' kind of people. Yeah. He's been here for months.
Best story I heard of someone getting rid of someone like that was to just walk in and throw a bucket of water over them. Nice.
Anyways, I honestly don't know how this guy has made it so far through life. I've tried everything to be civil but I'm really just tempted to creep into his room one night and smother the fuck.
This rage has built up over the last few months as you might imagine. Let me paint a picture for you.
It took about a month of him living here before I could extract 'rent' money out of him. I figure if you're sleeping on my couch in your undies and you've knocked over more than three beers then you're officially a tenant. That had happened by day three but who's counting?
He's a bit of a dag, I hate to say it but he is and so I tried to invite him out to hang with some lovely lady mates at the beach but my flatmate just couldn't look more obviously like he'd never tasted a breast in his life. I could see him mentally bashing these women over the head with a club and dragging them back to his cave. Ugh. And he spent a bit toooooo long in the shower when we got home...
And he leaves little hairs all over the bathroom.
And he borrows my socks without asking. They never return.
And he always drinks the last beer. And he always apologises. And he never buys more beer.
And on those rare occasions when he does the dishes he never seems to be able to do the pans.
And you know I woke up one night to find him pissing in a pizza box in the lounge room?!
And he's always got some grand scheme about how he's going to get more money and get his own place but he's always just sitting on the couch smoking bongs and playing playstation.
The bastard even went through my shit. I keep a small stash of wine for when the mood arises (as you do for when it does) but I came home one night with a friend to enjoy the wine and found that it had already been consumed...man, even my Zen self was pissed.
And you know what? I think that's that.
I think it's time I asked him to leave. Or maybe I'll just start filling up that icy bucket of water...
I'm serious. This guy is fucked.
And for the record, before I launch into this, he's one of those 'I just need a place to crash for a week or so while I look for my own pad' kind of people. Yeah. He's been here for months.
Best story I heard of someone getting rid of someone like that was to just walk in and throw a bucket of water over them. Nice.
Anyways, I honestly don't know how this guy has made it so far through life. I've tried everything to be civil but I'm really just tempted to creep into his room one night and smother the fuck.
This rage has built up over the last few months as you might imagine. Let me paint a picture for you.
It took about a month of him living here before I could extract 'rent' money out of him. I figure if you're sleeping on my couch in your undies and you've knocked over more than three beers then you're officially a tenant. That had happened by day three but who's counting?
He's a bit of a dag, I hate to say it but he is and so I tried to invite him out to hang with some lovely lady mates at the beach but my flatmate just couldn't look more obviously like he'd never tasted a breast in his life. I could see him mentally bashing these women over the head with a club and dragging them back to his cave. Ugh. And he spent a bit toooooo long in the shower when we got home...
And he leaves little hairs all over the bathroom.
And he borrows my socks without asking. They never return.
And he always drinks the last beer. And he always apologises. And he never buys more beer.
And on those rare occasions when he does the dishes he never seems to be able to do the pans.
And you know I woke up one night to find him pissing in a pizza box in the lounge room?!
And he's always got some grand scheme about how he's going to get more money and get his own place but he's always just sitting on the couch smoking bongs and playing playstation.
The bastard even went through my shit. I keep a small stash of wine for when the mood arises (as you do for when it does) but I came home one night with a friend to enjoy the wine and found that it had already been consumed...man, even my Zen self was pissed.
And you know what? I think that's that.
I think it's time I asked him to leave. Or maybe I'll just start filling up that icy bucket of water...
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The moment someone starts messing with the booze they have to go some things are sacred
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Throw the bucket!
In fact, throw a few!
Just keep on throwin' the damn things 'til that maggot is gone for good!
May the force be with you!
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Personally, he would have tasted my sidewalk's dust the second after he finished whizzing into the pizza box.
As for going through personal emergency stashes- let me not even go into the shades of scarlett I would have been seeing at the time and what I would ahve done to him afterwards.
ICE HIM. Then take a picture to update us.
Ps: Terrific post!
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ah well in a few years you can say 'remember that fuck knuckle we used to live with?
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And seriously, hide all of your favourite socks but leave some socks where he will steal them and lace them with chilli powder.
If all else fails stuff the bucket, put the hose on him.
PS: I would have made him eat that pizza box before I tossed his sorry arse into the street.
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