Archive for Ballbags

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

Posted in 11 Shit Things That Make Share-house Living Suck. with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 23, 2008 by Buck Frain

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!!!

11 Shit Things That Make Share-House Living Suck – #3

Posted in 11 Shit Things That Make Share-house Living Suck. with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 26, 2008 by Buck Frain


#3. Bio-hazard Bathroom

Let me make this clear: I am not a clean freak. I’m not like the former emergency room nurse I lived with for a while who used to disinfect everything including the walls on a daily basis. Incidentally, she was great, I never lived in a house so clean – it’s just a shame she was also a paranoid schizophrenic, we were on a good wicket for a while.

I am realistic – I get that there is dirt and I tolerate it in moderation but seriously, what the chewed-off-piss-flaps is wrong with people? Why do these pigs insist on living in their own filth? It makes me want to vomit in their beds, and I mean a really good cheese-fondue-and-red-wine vomit that stains and stinks with equal power. Fuck it – the bathroom is where you come to get clean. When the floor of the shower is slick with a layer of – what the shit is that? Algae? – when black mould is climbing up the soap-crusted glass of the shower screen, it’s just revolting. How can I get clean in filth? It’s impossible. 

I try anyway but when I reach for the soap I see it is covered with pubes. Not just one or two, although that would be bad enough, but fucking hundreds of them. Is there actually any soap underneath? I don’t fucking know I’m just trying not to throw up. The Soap Pube Bandit has struck again. It bewilders me how anyone can lose this many pubes regularly. Does one of my house-mates have cancer? The bastard better fucking well die from it if they’re going to keep being such a filthy maggot. Surely you can see the pubes when you put the soap back in its dish! I wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t my  soap. Buy your fucking own, you cunting great shit-smeared gorilla! I’d buy shower gel except I can’t find one with a lockable lid to prevent wasteful borrowers from using half the bottle in one day. How dirty can you possibly get? What the fuck needed that much lathering? No, no, don’t answer that!!! 

The shower is just a part of it. There’s the scum-tide rings in the bath, there’s the dribbly nob. Most houses have a dribbly nob. Someone who just can’t get all their piss in the toilet bowl. I’m not talking about the occasional incidence of a house-mate being too rat-arsed to aim straight, although that too is pretty offensive – How did you get piss there? Were you lying down? – I’m talking about the guy who lets the last dribble of piss land on the floor just in front of the bowl. He does it every single time and when do I become aware of it? At 3am when I drowsily stumble barefoot into the bathroom and awaken myself by stepping in someone else’s cold urine. WHAT THE CUNT IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU 80 YEARS OLD??? DIE, YOU STINKING FUCKER, DIE!!! 

But it never ends, there’s the chalky layer of spat toothpaste speckled with beard stubble in the hand basin – what the fuck? Then, has someone been using my toothbrush? What sort of ballbag uses someone else’s toothbrush? Can’t you tell the difference between them? Aren’t the primary colours and variations in design and bristle pattern vivid enough distinctions? Excuse me, do you have Hepatitis C?

Quick fact: Hey, filth-mongers, you can get Hep C from sharing a toothbrush and there is NO cure for it!

Have you used my razor as well? It was brand new and now it’s duller than Peter Costello‘s autobiography. Let’s hope you don’t have HIV either, you cock-rotting fucktard! Yes, there are lots of things you can get from sharing razors and most people don’t demand blood tests from the people they share houses with but perhaps they should – when you think about it seriously the stakes are pretty damn high. So, how did you get HIV? Unprotected, anonymous bum sex? Oh no, I once shared a house with a complete cunt! 

The stand-off between pigs and bitches reaches fever pitch in the bathroom. This can be the room where the battle is lost or won. It’s personal and the stakes are very high, it will provoke many a lively discussion but if the players are stubborn and no-one gives it can be the deciding factor in people leaving a house. 

I fucking refuse to share my bathroom with pigs. I live on my own, I’m happy and clean and I don’t take my life in my hands every time I use the shitting bathroom!

You’re so vain, you probably think I’m trying to kill you.

Posted in Human Stupidity with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 3, 2008 by Buck Frain

 

People are far, far more stupid than I had realised. It’s days like this where I despair for the human race and just want the cockroaches to take over – I doubt they’d do a worse job. I know I’m not the most charitable chap when it comes to evaluating the average intelligence of my species, but I think even I may have been overly generous thus far.

 

I read this article today and I’ve been hearing similar bulletins all over the radio warning the mobile phone owners of Australia not to respond to a text message scam saying:

 

Someone paid me to kill you. If you want me to spare you, I give you 2 days to pay 5000 dollars. If you inform the police or anybody, you will die, I am monitoring you.

 

How fucking stupid are you? If you’re enough of a douche bag to fall for that, you deserve not only to lose your money but to be beaten with a sledgehammer, dragged behind a car, chewed by wild dogs and set on fire. WAKE THE FUCK UP!!! How many hitmen tell you they’re going to kill you? How many hitmen ruin their own professional image by letting clients buy them off? How many hitmen can be bought off by clients for a meager $5000? I mean, how much was the cunt hired for in the first place? A bag of weed and some 2-minute noodles? What the shit-streaked pants are you thinking?

 

So…have you crawled out from under the bed yet? Will you be able to sleep tonight? If you’re still scared just ask yourself this: Who the fuck are you that someone would want you dead and feel strongly enough about it to spend money getting it done? Be honest now. No-one. Not one single person gives that much of a fuck about your imbecilic arse, do they? In fact, if you died tomorrow in your apartment, it would be a couple of weeks before the neighbours complained about the stench – that’s the truth, isn’t it? Yeah! So just shut the shit-eating-fuck up and relax!

 

If you’ve had a text message like the one above and after reading all this you’re still worried, please contact me at buck.frain@gmail.com  Include your address and when you’re likely to be home and, when I have time, I’ll make a special trip over to kick the living cunt out of you for being a stupid sack of self-absorbed shit. With all my heart: GET FUCKED!!!