11 Shit Things That Make Share-House Living Suck – #11

pennywise

#11. Other People’s Psychos

 

So, you’re a pretty good judge of character, huh? You’ve been around the share-house world long enough to know a few probing questions to ask of potentials, you’ve read books on body language and psychology and you know how to pick house-mates. Good work. Congratulations! You may well be great at telling what sort of people you want living in your house but how the fuck can you tell what sort of people they let into their lives? Ah, you didn’t think about that did you?

 

With every house-mate who’s not a complete nut-job-loner themselves, comes a horde of acquaintances, friends and relatives, some of whom may or may not be completely unhinged. And the best thing is that you’ll never know until you experience them first hand.

 

It’s 11:30pm I answer the door to a mournful, unsunned, waif.

 

Is Stephen in?

 

Stephen. Maybe I should have known. He wasn’t much of a ladies man but I didn’t think he was this depressed.

 

No, he’s…

 

I’ll just wait for him!

 

Stephen’s bedroom door slammed shut behind her. I was still standing at the door amazed at the nimble stealth that had propelled her under my arm and up the hallway. This definitely wasn’t a good sign. Welcome friends don’t scam their way in like that. No, this was bad. This was really, really bad. I’d let a complete stranger, a very sketchy-looking complete stranger into my housemate’s bedroom. Bad. Bad. Bad.

 

I shut the front door in case she was just the first of a legion of emo-zombies ravenous for the taste of non-suicidal brains. She’d only been in my house for seconds and already my will to live was ebbing away. I phoned Stephen and described his visitor.

 

You cunt, why did you let her in?

 

I fucking didn’t! She just dodged past me. Who the fuck does that?

 

Well, tell her to get out.

 

Fuck you, cunt, you get her to go, she’s your fucking girlfriend!

 

SHE’S NOT MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! WHAT’S SHE FUCKING DOING? FUCK!!!

 

He hung up. The girl had locked herself in his room and wouldn’t answer me when I tried to speak to her. This was becoming a cuntfully unpleasant scenario. Stephen rang back and swore at me and told me he wasn’t coming home for a couple of days in the hope she’d just leave. I told him he was piss-weak and that her being in our house at all was unacceptable, let alone for a few days, that she had locked herself in his room, wasn’t coming out and wasn’t talking, and that if he didn’t get his stupid arse home and get rid of her I would call the police. I added that if they got her out and he wasn’t back it was my firm intent to have a shit in his bed.

 

The police indeed came, they had to break the bedroom door to get in. The silly bitch had taken a bunch of pills and was unconscious in a big pile of vomit on his bed. The vomit made me feel a bit better about the situation. The ambulance came and they took her off to hospital and, yes, she was fine, and yes it may be sad and I don’t mean to treat suicide lightly but that wasn’t what this was. She wasn’t trying to kill herself, it turns out she just does this shit! This was her fucking schtick! Her equivalent to a shitting chat-up line, if you will! When she likes someone she has a bit of a failed-suicide at their house to illicit sympathy and create emotional ties based on a shared crisis and the lay foundations for a chronically unhealthy relationship. Personally I think she should fucking top herself, everyone would be better off, she’d be happier and, really, it’s not like the planet’s short of people, is it?

 

That’s just one story, though, there are fucking psychos everywhere. If you’re not already, you should be terrified…of everyone…all the time – people are fucked! A former house-mate of mine had a friend who seemed fine, just like a normal bloke…except…he liked to shit in weird places. You’d get up after having had a party the night before and you’d find a massive human turd in the driveway…or on the balcony…OR IN THE FUCKING FRIDGE!!! We thought someone had a serious grudge against one of us but then it started happening to people we knew at their parties as well. There was a phantom shitter at large. It took years of freak-outs and an eventual triangulation between circles of friends to work out that it was Cam and he just likes to pinch one off at parties– like it was some kind of satanic house-warming gift. Hey, he wasn’t my fucking friend!

 

There was the six months after Dion moved out when we realised that he’d been dealing speed the whole time because his crazy, junkie, scum-bag clients kept coming ‘round in the middle of the night to score.

 

Then there was Trish, she was a kinda cool rock-chick but her hardcore-militant-feminist friends made Romper Stomper look like Sesame Street and made me put a massive cunting lock on my bedroom door for fear of being emasculated in my sleep.

romper_stomper 

So that’s it – 11 shit things that make share-house living suck! My hand is a lot better, I still live on my own, I will continue to do so and, Peter, you’re still a pathetic ballbag! People, don’t be fooled – Bill Hicks was right about human beings – We’re a virus with shoes! People are completely fucked and if you’ve any sense at all you won’t live with any of them, EVER!!!

13 Responses to “11 Shit Things That Make Share-House Living Suck – #11”

  1. Sounds like you need to get yourself a cat or 10 and the collectors edition of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’.

    And remember, just because your paranoid doesn’t mean that everyone isn’t out to get you.

  2. I lived in the same house as a woman who, after inviting her extremely dodgy boyfriend round, would lock her door, switch on LOUD metal and then start screeching like a banshee.

    We thought she was just a hyper-melodramatic lover, until the day she got very drunk and confided in us… apparently he lover was into non-lubed anal-rape fantasies.

    Her contract was discontinued.

    As for psychos, my other housemate had his friend come to visit. His friend didn’t change his clothes in the month he lived there and wandered from room to room with a milk-bottle half filled with a milk-vodka mixture, just generally being bearded and sinister.

    I couldn’t get rid of him.

  3. Nathan – paranoia is total awareness, or so I heard.

  4. Ah yes, in my eagerness to read and partly relive another horrifying tale of share-housing I had forgotten your injuries and that this all started because of Peter… Glad to hear of your improvement.

  5. That was a mighty fine 11 part trilogy of epic proportions. Well done.
    I will stay away from this “Share House” business. It sounds very undesirable.

  6. “When she likes someone she has a bit of a failed-suicide at their house to illicit sympathy and create emotional ties based on a shared crisis and the lay foundations for a chronically unhealthy relationship.”

    You need to be on TV.
    Someone put this man on tv!!!!

  7. I’m devastated we’ve come to the end of this series. Surely you have more than 11 reasons?

  8. Sweetchief Says:

    Merry Xmas Buck

  9. Steven Stevenson Says:

    Tell it like it is brother Frain! Love all your pieces about shared houses. You should receive some sort of government health award for warning others of the dangers.

  10. Buck Frain! Where are you? November is a long way ago! Recharging? Decharging? Precharging? Have you found the sunny side of the street at last and now drive a car?
    The world is a sadder place without you in it.

    Don’t refrain from your buckness! (sad face)

  11. Sweetchief Says:

    Where in the “smacked ballbag” are you Buck? I need my inspiration!

  12. Oliver Coppen Says:

    RIP – Buck Frain

  13. sometimes its living with others and seeing how happy they can be to just walk all over your life can remind you juat how much you dont wanna be between those four walls. not everyone is out to get you…just everyone you know.

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