Conquer Club

so, whatever you call them, roommates, housemates, flatmates, or the banes of your existence, how many people here have them?

and while you're at it, tell some horrible roommate stories.

i have my cousin as a roomy(flatmate) and caught him wanking and he came on my shoe

sam_levi_11 wrote:i have my cousin as a roomy(flatmate) and caught him wanking and he came on my shoe

while you were wearing it? or was it just, you know, on the floor and in the line of fire?

i was wearing it, it could be worse, its the second time sumin like that happened, one it was my little bro(15) and he came on my jeans

am i a masterbation magnet

I think you just destroyed quite a few other roommate/masturbation stories. Mine seem tame compared to that... never actually got tagged.

I guarantee that no one here can top the roommate situation I had when living in San Francisco 3 years ago.

3 roommates:

1) prostitute with dentures for her top row of teeth, that she didn't wear around the house. Only when she left.

2) Typical angry man hating SF lesbian. Had a pitbull that was a rescue. Very anti-social and always complaining about noise.

3) Gulf War veteran from Boston with serious Post Traumatic Stress disorder. Had night terrors and slept with a fucking hunting knife under his pillow!!! Told me if I heard him screaming in the middle of the night, not to wake him up because he may wake up in 'combat mode'. WTF!! That's shit I'd like to know BEFORE I pay my deposite!

sam_levi_11 wrote:i have my cousin as a roomy(flatmate) and caught him wanking and he came on my shoe

Wow, way to pre-emptively destroy a thread. Like anybody could match that.

I guess my best roomie story is that I had to take last year's to the hospital 4 times. An alcoholic who could only drink for like eighteen hours a week because of crew practice, so he crammed a week's worth into that time. He knew all the EMS people by name .

Ok, this is kinda complicated. I used to live in a house with 5 men. When my best girlfriend moved back to the US after a year in China, we kicked one of them out for her to live with us (though that ended up being unneccessary because she got together with one of the roomies, so they basically shared a room, so we could have had 7 in the house and an awesome $150/month rent... anyway.)

Two of the roommates were through-and-through miserly spendthrifts. It wasn't poverty that made them like that, just their personalities. Another two of the roommates were spoiled children of wealthy families with no care for money and the final 2 generally attempted to stay neutral. Because there were SO MANY of us and only one fridge and one pantry, we adopted a shared-food policy. Whenever you went to the grocery store you'd just bring home the receipt and put it into a jar for divying up once a month. It worked better than you might expect, but not that well. The miserly spendthrifts bemoaned paying their share of the grocery bill and put up a hard fight to keep the thermostat eternally on 54 degrees (in the wintertime). Let's just say... I came to despise the misers, including one who had once been a dear, dear friend of mine.

One day my girlfriend and I were taking a bath together. Just smoking weed, eating cream puffs, and loofahing. One of the misers comes home from rock-climbing. He'd had a spill and wanted to take a bath. He knocked and asked us to come out soon because he wanted a bath. "Be out soon!" In about 15 seconds, we were about to start draining the tub when the other miser comes by and starts conspiring, "Just tell them to get out. They've been in their for hours. Just tell them to get out now." Ooooh, how I fumed. I yelled from the bathtub, "JUST SHUT THE f*ck UP, BEN. JUST SHUT THE f*ck UP! IT'S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS! GET YOUR FINGER OUT OF THE POT!" I'm not sure what a finger in the pot means, but I said it. Well, he shut the f*ck up, plenty well. But I was really embarrassed afterwards. I'd acted poorly. He and I didn't talk, didn't even look at each other for about two days. Finally he approached me, "Look, I'm sorry---" "Oh, no, I'M SORRY! I acted so stupid!" "No, I shouldn't have gotten involved." "No, no, I should never have said it..." So we made up for a few weeks. Until he borrowed my bike without my permission, didn't lock it up, and it was stolen... Oh, gosh.

He visited me in the city I now live in last weekend, though, and we had a jolly time. The hard feelings gradually vanished once we didn't live together anymore.

This 6 person house definitely wasn't my worst roommate experience, but it did become the final straw. I will never again have a roommate who is not an intimate partner or a family member. It just breeds bitterness.

spurgistan wrote: guess my best roomie story is that I had to take last year's to the hospital 4 times

im a bad roomie like that, my cousin and his then-gf had to take me 5 times lol. they never got used to it strangely enough.

OK well this goes back a good long time.

Nowadays I'm in a house with a wife and kids, and more bedrooms than there are people. Ha ha to all you with roomies.

But there was a time when I was suddenly unexpectedly without a proper address, and a friend of mine said she knew some people who were going abroad for a long while - maybe a year. They wanted someone to look after their house while they were away. I jumped at the chance, and ended up sharing the house with two guys, one of whom I knew a little bit, the other not at all. Both seemed nice enough guys and indeed were,essentially.

However, one turns out to be a party type.
The other is in a rock band that would rehearse at full volume until about 5 am. I was living a fairly conventional life at the time, getting up early and getting the commuter train to work where I trained computer programmers, so a full-on 24-hour party lifestyle, while it might sound great, rather got in my way.

What's more, one had a friend who clung to the house like a magnet, and turned out to have all sorts of nasty habits, like stealing a good part of my music collection, and forgetting to hand me the letter from a girl I was trying to get off with. I received the letter in about mid-Jan "Oh, here, man, this came for you. Sorry, I forgot about it..." The letter was an invite to come and stay with her over Christmas! that was the end of that relationship (those who've read my posting on another topic might be mildy interested to know that she lived in Islington) since she thought I'd deliberately ignored her.

And the rock band bloke had a live-in girlfriend who was literally certifiably mad. I could write a book about incidents with her - for instance she would come into my room, strip off and curl up on my feet, claming to be a cat. Or wake me up in the middle of the night screaming that there was a witch hiding behind the wallpaper. Or turn off my alarm after one of these incidents, a 3am rehearsal and a bunch of needy drug consumers standing outside shouting because "I looked like I needed a good sleep". Try explaining THAT one to your boss.

Incidentally, when a boss myself, the most complete excuse I was ever given for someone being late was "It was so cold in the squat I couldn't get my hands ou of the sleeping bag to turn on the teasmaid". Talk about terse storytelling.

btownmeggy and jonesthecurl, i've lived in similar arrangements.

it's kind of encouraging to read some of these stories, thanks for sharing. it's important sometimes to remember how bad it CAN be vs. how bad it is.

maybe i'll write out a story or two later.

Well, no personal experiences, but as for a couple buddies of mine, well...

They lived (one moved out, the other one is still there) in an apartment with a really annoying friend of theirs who really liked mayonnaise (as a condiment). Well, as time went on, he really got on their nerves. So one day while the guy was out of the house for who knows what, my two buddies decided on a little revenge for him being so annoying. So, they went to the fridge, got out his mayo, and then proceeded to add salt, sugar, garlic powder, and numerous other things. However, the coup de gras was when one of them jerked off into it. Let's just say that the annoying guy moved out soon after and really hasn't been on speaking terms with my two buddies since then.

muy_thaiguy wrote:Well, no personal experiences, but as for a couple buddies of mine, well...

They lived (one moved out, the other one is still there) in an apartment with a really annoying friend of theirs who really liked mayonnaise (as a condiment). Well, as time went on, he really got on their nerves. So one day while the guy was out of the house for who knows what, my two buddies decided on a little revenge for him being so annoying. So, they went to the fridge, got out his mayo, and then proceeded to add salt, sugar, garlic powder, and numerous other things. However, the coup de gras was when one of them jerked off into it. Let's just say that the annoying guy moved out soon after and really hasn't been on speaking terms with my two buddies since then.

I've done something similar by peeing in my friends beer bottle, I didn't tell him untill he finished it, (it was like 50% pee )

reminisco wrote:

sam_levi_11 wrote:i have my cousin as a roomy(flatmate) and caught him wanking and he came on my shoe

while you were wearing it? or was it just, you know, on the floor and in the line of fire?

was it while it was near ur face when u were sniffing the inside of it

btownmeggy wrote:
One day my girlfriend and I were taking a bath together. Just smoking weed, eating cream puffs, and loofahing.

Sam, get over here... I need to wank on your shoe.

lets just say i walked in, he tryed to erm.... stop but it was too late lol. and in the panick his cum hit my shoe....and iv never worn them, chucked them out straight away......didnt even clean them, just straight out

Well my first roommate was a ex-football HS player who was on the "sauce" and worked out everyday. He was SOOO intense, breaking doors, windows, refrigerators, cell phones, laptops.. all in a days work. By the end of the year our room was pretty much an open wound.

Then my last roommate was a.......... JEHOVA'S WITNESS!!! He would "accidently" leave out insane pamphlets about religious nonsense. And I think he was gay. I honestly think he was one of the main reasons I left that school and went somewhere else.

Crazy cults...

kleep wrote:Well my first roommate was a ex-football HS player who was on the "sauce" and worked out everyday. He was SOOO intense, breaking doors, windows, refrigerators, cell phones, laptops.. all in a days work. By the end of the year our room was pretty much an open wound.

Then my last roommate was a.......... JEHOVA'S WITNESS!!! He would "accidently" leave out insane pamphlets about religious nonsense. And I think he was gay. I honestly think he was one of the main reasons I left that school and went somewhere else.

Crazy cults...

Apparently, they are not allowed to celebrate holidays, religious or secular.

btownmeggy wrote:One day my girlfriend and I were taking a bath together. Just smoking weed, eating cream puffs, and loofahing.

That deserves a whole thread to itself... seriously.


I'd tell you about my current housemates, but one of them is Dapper Tom, and would probably be mildly displeased were I to write an expose of his living habits on teh interwebs.

That leaves me with only the tale of my 'accidental roomates' at uni.
I used to live on a staircase there that was directly above one of the priest's residences; but of course, the rooms weren't originally intended to be residential units as the building was actually a cathedral. This meant that they were all weird sizes, and that some of them were divided from each other by only ricepaper-esque screens (you could hear literally whatever your neighbours were doing through them). Unfortunately this meant that I was living in essentially the same room as a quiet young chap from Eton (we'll call him 'Bob'), whom I could hear doing everything from yawning, to opening the windows for a breath of air, to putting on his best brogues before popping out for bread and milk. In turn he was privy to the noises of me belching, copulating (it transpired that our beds were only two inches apart), jabbering to myself, firing my nerf-gun (how I miss it...) at passers by from my window, and generally making all-manner of noises that quiet young chaps from Eton aren't comfortable with.

The problem was that for the first month I was completely oblivious to the fact that he could hear me. He was quiet as a mouse, and I put the odd mumbles and bumps I occasionally heard down to the creaky old radiator system groaning in the wall. This meant that I was happily playing music at retarded hours of the morning, inviting drunken friends over for beers after a night spent at the pub, and making all of the intercourse noise I felt like.
I had no idea why my neighbour kept avoiding eye-contact with me when I bumped into him on the stairs, until his (rather less quiet) Eton-Chum came striding up to me one day and demanded that I keep the noise down because I was making Bob "a twitching wreck", and was apparently driving him to spent antisocially long-hours finding excuses to hang around in his friend's rooms. Suddenly the penny dropped; I realised that Bob could hear every sound I made, and that his head was at any given moment during my having intercourse, approximately four feet from my knob.

Subsequently I became a much better neighbour and always introduced my guests to him through the wall when they came over, tapped on the wall and said "Goodnight" when I switched off the lights, and made every effort to shout "Sorry Ed" after sex.

The End.



PS. No, he is not on speaking terms with me, and after two-terms of noise-terrorism asked the Uni for alternative housing, citing 'discomfort and a highly stress inducing environment' as his reasons.

Dancing Mustard wrote:I used to live on a staircase there that was directly above one of the priest's residences; but of course, the rooms weren't originally intended to be residential units as the building was actually a cathedral. This meant that they were all weird sizes, and that some of them were divided from each other by only ricepaper-esque screens (you could hear literally whatever your neighbours were doing through them). Unfortunately this meant that I was living in essentially the same room as a quiet young chap from Eton (we'll call him 'Bob'), whom I could hear doing everything from yawning, to opening the windows for a breath of air, to putting on his best brogues before popping out for bread and milk. In turn he was privy to the noises of me belching, copulating (it transpired that our beds were only two inches apart), jabbering to myself, firing my nerf-gun (how I miss it...) at passers by from my window, and generally making all-manner of noises that quiet young chaps from Eton aren't comfortable with.

The problem was that for the first month I was completely oblivious to the fact that he could hear me. He was quiet as a mouse, and I put the odd mumbles and bumps I occasionally heard down to the creaky old radiator system groaning in the wall. This meant that I was happily playing music at retarded hours of the morning, inviting drunken friends over for beers after a night spent at the pub, and making all of the intercourse noise I felt like.
I had no idea why my neighbour kept avoiding eye-contact with me when I bumped into him on the stairs, until his (rather less quiet) Eton-Chum came striding up to me one day and demanded that I keep the noise down because I was making Bob "a twitching wreck", and was apparently driving him to spent antisocially long-hours finding excuses to hang around in his friend's rooms. Suddenly the penny dropped; I realised that Bob could hear every sound I made, and that his head was at any given moment during my having intercourse, approximately four feet from my knob.

Subsequently I became a much better neighbour and always introduced my guests to him through the wall when they came over, tapped on the wall and said "Goodnight" when I switched off the lights, and made every effort to shout "Sorry Ed" after sex.

The End.

All in all a very sweet story.

Dancing Mustard wrote:

btownmeggy wrote:One day my girlfriend and I were taking a bath together. Just smoking weed, eating cream puffs, and loofahing.

That deserves a whole thread to itself... seriously.


I'd tell you about my current housemates, but one of them is Dapper Tom, and would probably be mildly displeased were I to write an expose of his living habits on teh interwebs.

That leaves me with only the tale of my 'accidental roomates' at uni.
I used to live on a staircase there that was directly above one of the priest's residences; but of course, the rooms weren't originally intended to be residential units as the building was actually a cathedral. This meant that they were all weird sizes, and that some of them were divided from each other by only ricepaper-esque screens (you could hear literally whatever your neighbours were doing through them). Unfortunately this meant that I was living in essentially the same room as a quiet young chap from Eton (we'll call him 'Bob'), whom I could hear doing everything from yawning, to opening the windows for a breath of air, to putting on his best brogues before popping out for bread and milk. In turn he was privy to the noises of me belching, copulating (it transpired that our beds were only two inches apart), jabbering to myself, firing my nerf-gun (how I miss it...) at passers by from my window, and generally making all-manner of noises that quiet young chaps from Eton aren't comfortable with.

The problem was that for the first month I was completely oblivious to the fact that he could hear me. He was quiet as a mouse, and I put the odd mumbles and bumps I occasionally heard down to the creaky old radiator system groaning in the wall. This meant that I was happily playing music at retarded hours of the morning, inviting drunken friends over for beers after a night spent at the pub, and making all of the intercourse noise I felt like.
I had no idea why my neighbour kept avoiding eye-contact with me when I bumped into him on the stairs, until his (rather less quiet) Eton-Chum came striding up to me one day and demanded that I keep the noise down because I was making Bob "a twitching wreck", and was apparently driving him to spent antisocially long-hours finding excuses to hang around in his friend's rooms. Suddenly the penny dropped; I realised that Bob could hear every sound I made, and that his head was at any given moment during my having intercourse, approximately four feet from my knob.

Subsequently I became a much better neighbour and always introduced my guests to him through the wall when they came over, tapped on the wall and said "Goodnight" when I switched off the lights, and made every effort to shout "Sorry Ed" after sex.

The End.



PS. No, he is not on speaking terms with me, and after two-terms of noise-terrorism asked the Uni for alternative housing, citing 'discomfort and a highly stress inducing environment' as his reasons.

That's rather funny. In other news, I have quite an amazing Nerf revolver in my car that shoots amazingly true. You need to get ahold of one. Perfect for any situation.

muy_thaiguy wrote:

kleep wrote:Well my first roommate was a ex-football HS player who was on the "sauce" and worked out everyday. He was SOOO intense, breaking doors, windows, refrigerators, cell phones, laptops.. all in a days work. By the end of the year our room was pretty much an open wound.

Then my last roommate was a.......... JEHOVA'S WITNESS!!! He would "accidently" leave out insane pamphlets about religious nonsense. And I think he was gay. I honestly think he was one of the main reasons I left that school and went somewhere else.

Crazy cults...

Apparently, they are not allowed to celebrate holidays, religious or secular.

Ya it was freaky. He wouldn't do anything... at all. Except study and go to church.

SO AWKWARD

kleep wrote:

muy_thaiguy wrote:

kleep wrote:Well my first roommate was a ex-football HS player who was on the "sauce" and worked out everyday. He was SOOO intense, breaking doors, windows, refrigerators, cell phones, laptops.. all in a days work. By the end of the year our room was pretty much an open wound.

Then my last roommate was a.......... JEHOVA'S WITNESS!!! He would "accidently" leave out insane pamphlets about religious nonsense. And I think he was gay. I honestly think he was one of the main reasons I left that school and went somewhere else.

Crazy cults...

Apparently, they are not allowed to celebrate holidays, religious or secular.

Ya it was freaky. He wouldn't do anything... at all. Except study and go to church.

SO AWKWARD

Oh I'd like to study your church.

dancing mustard wrote:I'd tell you about my current housemates, but one of them is Dapper Tom, and would probably be mildly displeased were I to write an expose of his living habits on teh interwebs.

That leaves me with only the tale of my 'accidental roomates' at uni.
I used to live on a staircase there that was directly above one of the priest's residences; but of course, the rooms weren't originally intended to be residential units as the building was actually a cathedral. This meant that they were all weird sizes, and that some of them were divided from each other by only ricepaper-esque screens (you could hear literally whatever your neighbours were doing through them). Unfortunately this meant that I was living in essentially the same room as a quiet young chap from Eton (we'll call him 'Bob'), whom I could hear doing everything from yawning, to opening the windows for a breath of air, to putting on his best brogues before popping out for bread and milk. In turn he was privy to the noises of me belching, copulating (it transpired that our beds were only two inches apart), jabbering to myself, firing my nerf-gun (how I miss it...) at passers by from my window, and generally making all-manner of noises that quiet young chaps from Eton aren't comfortable with.

The problem was that for the first month I was completely oblivious to the fact that he could hear me. He was quiet as a mouse, and I put the odd mumbles and bumps I occasionally heard down to the creaky old radiator system groaning in the wall. This meant that I was happily playing music at retarded hours of the morning, inviting drunken friends over for s after a night spent at the pub, and making all of the noise I felt like.
I had no idea why my neighbour kept avoiding eye-contact with me when I bumped into him on the stairs, until his (rather less quiet) Eton-Chum came striding up to me one day and demanded that I keep the noise down because I was making Bob "a twitching wreck", and was apparently driving him to spent antisocially long-hours finding excuses to hang around in his friend's rooms. Suddenly the penny dropped; I realised that Bob could hear every sound I made, and that his head was at any given moment during my having , approximately four feet from my knob.

Subsequently I became a much better neighbour and always introduced my guests to him through the wall when they came over, tapped on the wall and said "Goodnight" when I switched off the lights, and made every effort to shout "Sorry Ed" after s*x.

The End.



PS. No, he is not on speaking terms with me, and after two-terms of noise-terrorism asked the Uni for alternative housing, citing 'discomfort and a highly stress inducing environment' as his reasons.

as far as im concerned thats one of the best stories ever told, it could be a novel..........seriously i liked it. whats ur new neighbour like

did i tell you about when my cousin ly sent a picture of his c*ck to me.....send all....you have to be careful with that