Shitty Roommate

Worst Possible Response

kotau came out of the closet to say:

If this is true, the fact that you didn’t do anything about the situation made it infinitely worse. I think we can all learn a lesson from that.

I agree, what I did was absolutely the worst response to the situation. If you think about it, this poor guy had a serious problem, and I was the only one who could help him, and I chose not to. I am in no way a hero in this situation. It is only the most capricious, fateful of windfalls that neither of us are dead, and I ended up enriched in the end.

kotau came out of the closet to say:

Yeah, that’s my point exactly, but I still don’t understand why you didn’t solve it the simple way earlier on by contacting the proper authorities. Why didn’t you?

I go over this rationale earlier in the thread. Really, it was so long ago I find it hard to remember just why I did what I did, the way I did it. Partly I left things as they were because I was mad, and I wanted to prove that he would really fuck things up if I wasn’t there to clean his shit up. Partly, I didn’t really care what he did, because if he fucked stuff up it was his ass on the line. Partly, I was sort of curious, in that manner of a distant bystander, just how awful things would get before the forces around us intervened. Finally, I wanted to see how long I could get by witholding rent in a righteous indignation. Really, I let it go on for the most petty, inexcusable reasons imaginable.

FronzelNeekburm came out of the closet to say:

As someone who does a bit of work in burned and damaged homes, I would not enter a house like the one you have described without a protective suit and a half-mask. Vicks Vaporub does nothing for keeping that crap out of your lungs. This sounds worse than anything I’ve ever had to deal with. At least when the house burns down, some of the feces and student papers will go with it.

I used to clean apartments, and, believe it or not, with the exception of the bathroom and the tub, I’ve seen worse.

Oh haha, I forgot one silly little detail.

The cops were about to go into the apartment, and I told them, “Be careful. He has tons of tarantulas and they’re probably all over the place in there.”

After that they gave eachother a look and decided to wait for the moonsuit crew.

QwertyAsher came out of the closet to say:

this look anything like the setup?


Close, but no cigar. Let me see if I can mspaint it with my shitty skills.

This is somewhat close but the proportions are all off. The green area is the common area/kitchen and part of the kitchen is the closet. I am really shitty with graphical representation. The blue area is the fortress of good and the bathroom of the fortress of good, and the red area is his room and his bathroom of foulness and evil. To the far left you can see the sliding door as a black blotch, and the front door is to the bottom. At the far right you can see a little grey blotch I drew to represent a fountain he got caught pissing in one day before all this shit went down.

The picture is painfully badly done, but it is basically correct.

Martin Random decided to show you this image:

Floor Plan

Shii Says:

Here comes a multiple-post series for the first bit I’ve MS-Painted… I did the phone call, too, but I left it out because it was a complicated bit of dialogue.

Shii decided to show you this image:

The Phone Call

Shii Says:

Jed’s car (…here a pickup truck… I dunno, I imagined it as one) and struggle to break in into Jed’s land of enchantment.

Shii decided to show you this image:


Shii Says:

Finally, the Room of Trash (moving this from the other page so that they’ll be in order).

Hopefully I’ll get more done later, or maybe someone else can finish up

Shii decided to show you this image:

Room of trash

Shii came out of the closet to say:


Holy crap that is cool. That’s a pretty accurate rendition.

inignot came out of the closet to say:


You missed the part where I took off the helmet because it prevented me from hearing an ambush and was covered in greasy shit that was growing on the couch.

That couch is a whole other story too. We had two couches, one was a common couch and one was this crazy couch my roomie had bought at a garage sale. The crazy couch was made of black fur, and was gigantic. It was the one blocking the door, and had shit growing all over it. I don’t know how, but somehow mold is all greasy when it gets wiped on stuff. I’m not sure where the other couch was at the second re-entry. I can’t remember if it was blocking the hallway or what.

ColinMoore came out of the closet to say:

I came for the first post and stayed for the ending.

Brilliant, and I didn’t see: when did this all take place? It seems like it’s been a year or so but I can’t tell.

This all went down 3-4 years ago, which is why I’m a little hazy on details, and dashing in and adding additional details.

Hydro squeegee came out of the closet to say:

My friends are wondering if they can take your story, turn it into a script, and film it for the benefit of society.

Sure. Also, please use the names I used, because they are fake, and I don’t want Jed’s family suing me or something for slander.

Also give me a bigger wrench than Shii did. That wrench I brought along was almost 2 feet long.

Jed was a communications major.

LazyDivey came out of the closet to say:

This story was just amazing. Thank you for sharing it. I wouldn’t have been able to put up with all that shit for more than a week.

How exactly did you meet this guy again?

I can’t remember for sure, but I think a friend from some general ed psychology class from my first year of college lived with him, and gave me his name when I was looking for a new place to stay. Jed’s family rented him this cottage unit and he basically sublet a portion of it to a number of people over time. I was his last tenant.

Kaiser Bill came out of the closet to say:

Also, being “uptight with yourself” but “laid back for other people” sounds to me like you let yourself be a doormat. Don’t do that.

It’s hard to convey the strong, stoic attitude without sounding like either an asshole or a doormat, but, to try again to put it simply: A doormat tries to overextend his control and folds at the drop of a hat. An asshole rigidly defines his influence, extending it over other people, and doesn’t fold even when it’s futile to resist. I choose my battles very carefully, and where I do assert myself, there is no amount of insanity that will cause me to budge. For all the awfullness, Jed didn’t really intrude upon me. I had a few months of very nice, intrusion free existence, where I had all that I wanted in a little exclusive area of the house for very little rent. Where Jed tried to fuck with my shit, I set things up so he couldn’t. Where I couldn’t do that, I just removed myself from the equation. Choose your battles. I wouldn’t stick around in the common area and bitch and whine like a pussy, or pick fights like an ass. I would just remove myself from the conflict, and continue to live the good life. In the fortress of awesomeness.

meh came out of the closet to say:

So where was Jed when he wasn’t at home playing his crapophone in his feces lasagna? I think someone else would notice that he reeks of shit and piss and mold and such, yesno?

I think I have to go throw up now.

Pilsner came out of the closet to say:

The only thing I really have a hard time understanding is how you make your adventure through his room to his bathroom sound like you spent two hours traversing through an overgrown mayan tunnel system in a jungle or something, when your diagram depicts it as being a tiny room in a studio apartment. But alright, for the sake of drama, it works fine.

You’ve got me. I figured he would at least be caught stealing stuff from longs drugs or various construction sites, but somehow he managed. He looked very white and upstanding, so I don’t think he got much trouble.

It actually took quite a bit of time because I was spending a lot of time investigating every nook and cranny for a psychotic with a knife. You’d be suprised at how much time a slow walkthrough of an apartment cottage that size can take. I think entry to exit on the first Dark Time trip took me about 25 minutes. The second one took about 15 minutes, not counting the door bashing.

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We here at the management of dipstick websites LLC have decided to not show ads because apparently this is getting flagged.

I wonder my site and all 100 people per month will drop to an even smaller trickle now that I have cost the great overlords a few pennies?