The Tale of the Mad Feces King
What follows is the highly disturbing tale of a roommate that more or less slowly descended into total madness, up to the point where he was storing dead animals in the oven, and taking dumps in various places around the house that were not the toilet bowl. Originally found on the SomethingAwful Forums, posted by Martin Random, I have mirrored this tale here purely for the reasons that I made me laugh to no end while reading the original thread. Note that these forums require a payment to access, so this link will probably not work for you if you don't have an account there.
Whether this actually happened or not, I can't tell. Regardless, it's funny as hell, and considering the realistic way in which it was brought, it's crazy enough to actually have taken place. Also note that this was originally a series of forum posts, not a written story - the style may be somewhat haphazard now and then. Yes, it's quite a lengthy read, but it's worth it. Illustrations are by Shii and easyjo.
Fuck the Bible, this is the greatest story ever told.ArousingWedgie
Well, I'm never eating lasagna again. Thanks!Curufin
This is one of the best stories, I've ever read, in my entire life.NerdyMcNerdNerd
I think DOOM 3 is, in fact, based on this very story.Fry
This story is just enthralling. I read it in the other thread, but it's worth mentioning again how fucking insane your room mate is/was. I mean, I have this absolutely hilarious, yet frightening image of him bouncing around the common room shitting into random objects letting out blood curdling screams of rage. It just defies rational explanation.
"He took my stereo! RAAAARGH! I'll shit into household appliances! ARGH!"Zandragal
Without further ado...
There recently was a thread about awful room-mates, along with pictures. I have my own experience.
Housing complex. The units are basically small cottages, made for two room-mates, with a common area and attached kitchen, a small storage closet in the common area containing water pipes leading to Suite A's bathroom. The two private areas of the suite contained a private bedroom, a sliding glass patio door, and a private bathroom. Sounds idyllic. My roomie, Jed, liked to throw parties. He liked tarantulas, too, and kept six.
For the sake of saving my effort in recounting this story, here is a basic rundown of the chaos. This run-through of incidents is going to be kind of terse, because I'm working off of a check list I made a while ago. During our stay together, my roomie:
* He brought his motorcycle into our common room because he was "afraid it would be stolen." This was fine, but then he started it and let it idle for 15 minutes without opening any windows, causing all of our stuff to smell like motor exhaust. * After his girlfriend left him, he went berserk in his private bathroom with a sledgehammer or a geologist's hammer and smashed all of his bathroom fixtures. I'm not sure of this but I believe that just before she left him she fucked some guy with pubic lice in my bed during a party. * His toilet was inoperative at this point, so he used mine for a time, until I refused him access. Later I would find out that he shat in garbage bags and kept them in the common room closet for weeks. More on this later. * He set fire to our carpet with alcohol during a party. He pissed in the fridge. He shat in the fridge. He shat in the crisper drawer. He shat on the oven top, and instead of cleaning it up, turned on the burner, reasoning that carbon is easier to clean than feces. * He left a dead cat he found somewhere in our oven for a week and forgot about it. I discovered it later. * He owned 6 tarantulas, and would let one run around free-range. He assured me he had "tamed it." I assured him he was a stupid fuckhead. * He never showered.
* He sold drugs from his room. He smoked pot with his friends in the common area. He...
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