Good Website idea. Here is my story:
i think the housemate with whom i share a bathroom is the most disgusting person ever. here's an example:
this morning i woke up and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and stuff, and there was a dirty running shoe and a dirty washcloth in the bathroom sink. it was a shoe that the roommate had stepped in dog shit in a while ago. i picked it up by a lace and threw it on the floor. i thought my roommate was at school, but when i came up a couple hours later to take a shower, she was here, so i asked her to get the shoe out of the bathroom. we share a tiny bathroom, so it's not like i could just ignore the shoe. here's the conversation:
Me: "Can you get that shoe out of the bathroom? It's gross and I want to take a shower."
Her: "What's wrong with it?"
Me: "It has dog shit on it."
Her: "No it doesn't, I threw up on it."
Oh, well in THAT CASE... why didn't you just put it in my bed or something? because dog shit shoes are gross, but i LOVE vomit shoes. she took it out of the bathroom, but seemed mystified as to why i was unhappy with finding a barf shoe in the sink first thing in the morning.
so then i went to take my shower, and there's a goddamn skid mark of menstrual blood on the toilet seat. and this isn't the first time. i have 5 more months with her. 5 more months...
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Gross roommate story
Shower Story
One night while on duty, I heard a knock at my door at about 1 a.m. A resident was at my door completely naked. He had a prank pulled on him and while showering had “lost” both his towel and his key to his room. To make matters worse, I was the only Resident Assistant he could find. I lived as far away from his room as possible. It was a duty night that neither the resident nor I will soon forget.
About a week later, another resident was taking a shower. His roommates thought it would be funny to take his towel and keys while he was showering. A noisy race ensued, causing everyone in the hall to stick their heads out their doors to see what was going on. This included the Resident Director’s wife.
And we all know about payback…early in the semester, a female resident had stolen her roommate’s towel, resulting in the need to use the shower curtain to cover herself. Pictures of the roommate in the shower curtain were taken. In anticipation of payback, the towel-stealing-photo-taking-roommate hid a towel in the bathroom for weeks, just in case. When the time was right…her roommate got her friends to steal the back up towel…I encountered this resident at my door one day, wrapped in a shower curtain, asking to be let into her room. It was a long walk to her room from mine. When I let her in the room, her roommate was waiting…pretending to read a book and laughing hysterically out loud.
Greetings! I moved to a large city where I only knew one person (an old acquaintance). I had problems finding a place to live, so I gave her a call, and she hooked me up with a friend of hers who was seeking a roommate. He's is a straight, single guy, like me. He seemed cool, so I took the room.
he FIRST NIGHT I moved in, I heard the door knob to my room rattling at 3AM
(I had locked it before bed out of general caution). I open the door, and there is my new roommate... completely naked. He was acting very weird, and was trying to get into my room. Now he is about 5'10" and 160 pounds. I am 6'5" and 290 pounds... needless to say, I could have easily put a quick (but violent) end to this nonsense. Being a nice guy, and sensing something was wrong, I just told him to go back to his room. He left, and I went back to bed. Unfortunately, this scenario played out again two more times that night, in the exact same way.
The next morning I found out that he has epilepsy. If you know the disease, you know it is common for someone to have a period of "confusion" (lasting up to 30 minutes) after a seizure. He had had a seizure that night, and was walking around confused. It freaked me out, and I still sleep with my door locked, but I'm glad I decided to settle things without violence. It turns out he's a pretty good guy, and a decent roommate. Well, mostly... the past month or so he's been turning our living room/dining room/kitchen into an extention of his bedroom by sleeping on the couch (in front of the TV) most every night. It's really annoying, but doesn't come close to trying to break into my room, naked, in the middle of the night! ;^)
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Some reaction on: I will try to keep the housemates that I have
This comment is on reaction on this post:
http://lifewithroommates.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-will-try-to-keep-housemates-that-i.html
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Wow, some seriously terrible roommate stories on this site. Mine can’t compare with tales of felons or smelly hippies, but my own brush with a terrible roommate was enough to make me cautious.
I took a job outside New York City. I had about three weeks to find an apartment, pack up, and make the move from Chicago, so things were a little hectic, especially since it was around the holidays. Anyway I searched on Craig’s List (you can see where this is going) and found a handful of apartments that seemed reasonable. I made plans and drove out to New York because I was smart enough to actually see the places I was considering and meeting the people who lived there. Long story short, I saw some decent places (own bedroom, nice living room), some not-so-nice places (“You wouldn’t have a bedroom per se, but a section of the living room, and if you could make yourself scarce on the weekends, that would be great because I’m a swinger and I like to host orgies”), but settled on a room in a three-bedroom with two other guys, both in their mid-20s like me. Now I pride myself on being fairly good at sensing people that are more trouble that they are worth. I also have a good olfactory sense when it comes to sniffing out bullshit. Both failed miserably when I met let’s call him L. L was English. I thought it was an interesting novelty, the same way I thought it might be interesting to live with someone who worked in a tattoo parlor or was a sex columnist. He was a soccer coach and, if you believed him, quite good at it making decent money. The other guy, J, was a good guy, although I didn’t have a chance to meet him. Their other roommate, A, moved out without giving them much notice and they were searching for a replacement ASAP. I guess L and A didn’t get along so it was best that she left anyway. A didn’t want to put up with L anymore and moved out. A was much smarter than I am, apparently.
I emailed with him after giving him my first month’s rent check and explained that I would be moving in on such-and-such day. Turns out he would be out of town that day but he assured me he would mail the key to me. I tried calling to confirm that when it didn’t show up in Chicago but couldn’t get in touch with him. I figured (wrongly) that he mailed it to the apartment in New York. I make the 14-hour drive out there, crash in a hotel for the night, and head to the apartment in the morning maneuvering the U-Haul down too-narrow streets. Check the mailbox. No key. Check under the doormat. No key. Check in the bushes. No key. Call L. No answer. Call the landlady. L had given me the wrong number. Finally I manage to convince the lady who lives downstairs that I am the new roommate and she gives me a spare key.
At first, things were fine. I was busy at work, usually going 9–7, plus running errands, exploring Manhattan, etc., and L worked later in the day so there were stretches where I might not see him for a few days at a time. I’m not antisocial and neither was he, but at least if we didn’t get along, we were not in the apartment at the same time. One of my first nights there, we went out to grab some dinner at a pub/bar in White Plains. L was treating, Awesome, I thought. This is working out great. Perhaps I’m in the minority, but I was taught that when someone else is buying you dinner, there is a certain protocol. First be gracious and say thank you. Perhaps offer to pick up the tip, if the mood is right. Second, say you’ll pick up the check the next time you’re out together to make things even. Third, if someone’s taking you out, refrain from going crazy and ordering seven or eight beers (especially when they are $7 a piece), appetizers, and dessert. In other words, don’t take advantage of someone’s hospitality. I didn’t. L did. And therein is the difference between us. A few weeks later we went out to eat at a similar place. I had a burger and a Guiness. He had a burger, a chocolate sunday, cheesestick appetizers, and six beers. When he was paying the bill came to about $25. When I paid, it was $75. Funny how that happens.
The next weekend, L was going out of town and had a 9 a.m. flight out of LaGuardia. A cab runs close a $100 each way. You can get there via the train into the city and then a bus, but that takes forever and can be more trouble than it’s worth. Or you can ask your roommate for a ride. I said sure, seeing as I thought it would be good to learn how to get to the airport and if I ever needed to fly out, he could drive me. It works out well if the sack of shit you’re driving to the airport actually is timely and doesn’t make you late for work your second week on the job. “So long as I’m at my desk by 9, no problem.” Doesn’t help when the guy doesn’t get out of bed until 8 and THEN decides it’s a good time to pack. So yeah, L makes me late for work. Had I not been able to sneak in unnoticed I would have been in serious trouble, not to mention setting a poor example so soon on the job. And on a personal level, I absolutely hate being late; I can tolerate it in others, but I have an almost-allergic reaction when I run late for something.
Next week goes by without incident. I am supposed to pick him up the next Sunday afternoon. I am literally putting my jacket on to pick him up when he calls to tell me that his flight’s delayed. I said, okay and checked it out online. Sure enough: delayed. A few hours go by the website says it has taken off and will land soon. Another phone call. L missed his actual flight. Apparently he decided to make the most of being stuck in an airport and hit the bar. Drinking heavily he missed his actual flight. He wouldn’t be on the next one either because it was full. Or the one after that. Basically instead of getting in at 3, he would now be getting in at 11, and I was a real mate for picking him up. Finally I head to the airport and pick him up, and what’s this? He wants to give a friend a ride home. I made two assumptions when he wanted to give this woman a ride home. I assumed he knew her before the flight and I assumed she lived somewhere on the way home because, you know, what kind of asshole would ask a person to drive a complete stranger they just met someplace completely out of the way at fucking midnight on a Sunday. L was that asshole. I’m not wild about driving in Manhattan as it is, but the fact that she lived in fucking Tribeca and not Queens of Westchester was really the icing on the cake. (For those of you not familiar with the layout of New York, Tribeca is nowhere close to where we were going.) So I drop this woman off and breathe a sigh of relief because unlike him, I actually have to be at work by a certain time in the morning.
But it gets better. He wants to stop at a bar and see his mates. Some shit bar in Alphabet City. I say okay. I just don’t want to argue…too tired. Not so much a stop to say hello, but a stop to having a few drinks and snort coke out back. Yeah, nice surprise when your asshole roommate is a junkie to boot, isn’t it? We finally got home at about 4. To this day I think he thinks he did me a favor. In some twisted logic he thinks that that experience was “good” for me.
In short order the next six months went much the same way until I just started saying no to him. Seriously I think I should have taken a rape prevention class before living with this guy.
I stopped doing him favors of any kind the time he went on one of his many benders with his friends and needed a ride from the city at 3 a.m. I mean, who calls a person at that hour looking for a ride? And being rather insistent that you give him one? Being a complete idiot and letting my manners get the best of me, I rolled out of bed, threw on some shoes, printed out directions from MapQuest, and headed out. Oh and it was February. Sitting on the backed-up FDR (the expressway that runs along the east side of Manhattan) I had to wonder why I didn’t take being locked out of the apartment as being some divine intervention. When he complained that it took me too long, I was about as close to murdering someone as I have ever been.
He had all the typical habits of being a shitty roommate: messy, didn’t do the dishes, didn’t pay bills on time, ate my food, never cleaned the bathroom, would eat my leftovers, would dominate the TV in the living room (even though he had one in his bedroom), etc. My personal favorite was the going to the bathroom with the door open, walking naked from his bedroom to the bathroom to take a shower, and the weird pride he would take in stinking up the bathroom and then leaving the door open so the whole apartment would smell. Then he got a girlfriend and despite the fact that we agreed that this would be a smoke-free apartment, he let her smoke in his room, ash in a pop can, and then throw it out in the kitchen garbage can so the rest of the apartment smelled like cigarettes too. This guy was a real peach.
Oh, then there was the one-upmanship and outright lies. L had, according to him: dated Mandy Moore, fucked Julia Stiles, chatted with David Beckham every week and attended his wedding, made $200,000 a year (for coaching 8-year-old-girl soccer), had a scholarship to Cambridge, shagged at least 300 different girls, survived cancer, was diabetic, played professional soccer, had lunch with Keira Knightly, wrote a column for Men’s Health (being a writer/editor trying to break into the industry myself, this was specifically designed to piss me off), etc. You name it, he had done it, only a thousand times better.
Then we found out he was overcharging us for rent and utilities.
L might not have been the worst roommate in the world but he definitely was an asshole.
Friday, December 29, 2006
WANTED: Stories & Comments!!!
Let's exchange hair-raising tales of bad roommates. They drive you crazy. They make you insane. Who's had a roommate who borrowed clothes without asking? Or mother you, tell what to eat, how to dress or how to do your job? It's happened to all of us.
Send the story at roseline43@hotmail.com or add a comment to this post.
ANNOYING ROOMMATES
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
I will try to keep the housemates that I have
Well,I found this site while I was posting for a new housemates, and after reading this, I think maybe I will try to keep the housemates that I have.
First of all, I disagree with the term 'roommate' unless you are actually going to share a 'room'. I am proposing to rent a room in a condo. I am renting space. I am not renting myself out as an advisor (legal, psychological or otherwise), I will not show my condomate how to connect his/her computer, nor do I expect to share communal meals or meal planning. I carefully select my condomates by their work schedule--the longer they work (8 hour minimum) and further away, the better. They must work a minimum of 8 - 5 Monday through Friday.
I turned down a couple of guys because they were mortgage brokers, realtors, etc. who had 'flexible schedules' and worked out of the house a lot. I turned down one guy because he was too fat and I didn't want him ruining my bed and couch, nor did I want the inconvenience of trying to get by him in the kitchen or the hall.
I go out of my way to accommodate my condomates' schedule and not be using the kitchen, or washer and dryer when they are home. I am so quiet that my condomate will not hear me when I come in, when I leave or when I move from room to room. I would like my condo mate to do the same, but it is not necessary. Their noise does not necessarily bother me unless they address me directly or knock on my door, etc.
I watch TV in my room. My condomate can do so in his/her room. There is no TV in the living room. There is free wifi available, and there will be cable. I have an unlimited long distance phone line and a separate fax line.
I don't expect to be talked to every time I walk through the condo. I won't speak to the condomate, he/she doesn't need to speak to me. In fact, I do now and hope to in the future rent to a couple so that they will entertain each other, solve each other's problems and not bother me.
The condomate has the master bedroom with private bath. I have the other bath, and share it only with the tenant in the other bedroom. I do not entertain, and I do not want a condomate who entertains. Guests will be only on special occasions, and there is no "guest bathroom". If the condomate has an occasional guest, the guest uses THEIR bathroom.
My office is off limits as is my bedroom and the area immediately outside it. NO ONE knocks on my door. If the condomate wants to contact me he/she can leave a message on my voicemail. I check it when I feel like it. When I want to contact my condomate about an issue, I leave a note under the door or call their cell, usually leave the note.
I expect the condo mate to clean up after him/herself in the kitchen and his/her own room. I and the other condomate are responsible for the rest of the condo. I always leave the vacuum cleaner out because I do not want to be bothered to get it for them.
In my opinion, I offer my condomate the best of both world--sharing costs with a condomate who is like not even there at all.
When I had the female condomate alone, I did try to socialize with her a little as I felt sorry for her. And she was SO NEEDY. She makes 'notice me' noise everytime she comes out of her room--cough, sigh, sneeze, breathe deep, yawn, right outside my room. Then she goes into the kitchen--bang, bang, slam, pause, bang, bang, slam, pause, again and pause, then "Are you in there?" referring to my office in the dining area which I have done everything to to separate from the rest of the condo except building a soundproof wall keeping people from coming in. (But when I get some extra money, I will do that.) When her boyfriend came to live with her, I thought it would get better and it has, but she still makes the 'notice me' noise right in front of my bedroom door as she passes it.
These people NEVER GO ANYWHERE --except to work. So they are there ALL WEEKEND LONG EVERY WEEKEND! I am so glad I would not allow a TV in the living room! Forturnatly they are so TV addicted, they only run out to the kitchen to use the washer or micowave and then run back into their rooms. Otherwise, these slugs would be sitting on the couch from Friday to Monday.
Also, she has lived with me for 27 months and has only been on time with the rent 4 times. Her rent is due 10 days before I pay, and I still have to stress out over having the rent. Now her slug boyfriend has moved in with her, and she is STILL late on the rent???? Also, she/he pull out the washer and never put it back, so I have to do it. But like I said, after reading some of these people's experiences, my problems are pretty small.
OK, people, I know from reading these posts that there are worse roommates out there, but from what I read the problems were as much the fault of the renter as the rentee. Like it would be a cold day in hell before the condomate could borrow my car (or before I would ask the condomate to borrow his/hers). When my car is down, I rent one or take the bus. The condomate could do the same.
Let's get this straight. I'm renting space and the utility services that go with it. I don't say hello and goodbye and goodnight to my condomate. I don't explain my absences or why I have been out late, and I don't want to know their stories. I rent them the room and I let them be, let them have their privacy. I want mine.
So what do you people think? Am I way out of line? Do most people who rent rooms actually want to do this to interact with other people? Wouldn't everyone who could afford it rather have their own space and privacy?
CDCD RCD & DVD Duplication 1 - 10,000
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I will never have a roommate again!!!!
I was in the process of getting a divorce and I had a big home at the time and thought about renting out a room to make ends meet.Well,I put an ad in our local paper and got alot of responses.Each time I set up an interview.I met a older guy who seemed quiet and said he would help out in the house-ie:fixing stuff.
He always pays his rent on time and it seemed too good to be true-It was-he was very loud even just walking he was a small framed guy but it sounded like a herd of elephants when he was walking through the house.He always had his girlfriend there.Which was no problem.But as time went by he was late in paying rent saying he was sick and couldn't work-I was nice enough to let it slide but he was late all the time.One day he was very on edge and calling up a person and getting very loud and cursing and when his girlfriend tried to calm him down he hauled off and hit her right in front of me and my boyfriend.My boyfriend was a larger man then him and he didn't let that sit well with him hitting a woman.So,they got into it and my roommate locked himself in his room.While his girlfriend was a mess-bleeding etc.I asked her if she would press charges and she said yes. So,I called the police and they came right away.
Well,comes to find out my lovely roommate was on parole for manslaughter and he was sick from coming down off heroin! That is why he was calling up a certain person and cussing at him...it was his drug dealer!!The police hauled him away and put him in jail and I was stuck with his junk and his parents who were elderly couldn't take his stuff.I kept getting threatening calls from him in jail and telling me if I throw his stuff out he would come after me! I had to go and get a PPO out on him.It was a plain mess.I will never have a roommate again!!!!
Lori
Plastic cup
I had a roommate who would write my name on a plastic cup and expected me to drink from the same plastic cup everyday, in my own house! I would throw the cup out everyday when I came in, and the next day there would be another.
I am happy to say that this lunatic is out of my house now, and is an over the road truck driver, just what the world needed!!
David
Friday, December 22, 2006
I think I had the WORST roommate EVER!
In September of this year I met my now girlfriend. She would come over to my apartment every day and hang out, even if I wasn't there; we weren't a couple until the end of October. In early October, she said that one of her best friends got stuck in the middle of a bad situation that was out of his control and was just released from prison. (My girlfriend was also on parole but don't judge yet.) They had been friends for 2 years and she trusted him enough to bring him to my place so I let them hang out. The 3 of us hung out for about a week and I started getting buried in financial problems. I was going to rent out my bedroom and I would have a "room" in the dining area.
That was where the tension began. The small talk errupted into a screaming match between my GF and my roommate. They were never able to reconcile their problems. My GF and I decided that if he was going to be a dick about the whole thing, then we would just do our own thing. There would be times when her and I would just be sitting next to each other on the couch, watching tv or something, and she would have her arm around me or her hand on my leg, but nothing more than that ever. He would get all pissed off then slam the door and start punching the walls and turn on his "Ministry" CD at like Mach 10 sound; which is really annoying and my neighbors have had us written us up for it.
That went on for weeks. It was so frustrating. We would have to make up excuses to be alone together for 30 seconds. It wasn't but 2weeks after he moved in that his job "just wasn't working out". I told him I would drive him to job interviews whenever he needed but he needed to get a job asap. He said he would but only went to 2 interviews in 3 months.
In early November, my GF was arrested and is stuck there for awhile. So it was just me and the ass-hole. The first weeks or so were actually alot better then I had expected. I think he was happy that my GF (his supposed BFF) was gone and he thought he could get a "rebound-fuck" or something. He was helpful and we (I thought) became like brother and sister.
He started acting wierd: staying up all night, constant quick phone calls-then he would take off for hours, then it became constant incoming calls all hours of the day and night. He would answer and say either yes or no then would run outside for a few minutes then come back in like that was nothing. I suspected that he was using and selling drugs in the apt.
Then he started having all sorts of girls over ALL the time. He wouldn't even ask me if it was cool. (This was late Nov early Dec-and he STILL hadn't paid rent). I started getting really irriated with him so I would do things like unplug the phone jack, and put passwords all over the stuff he wanted to use on the computer/internet. I would act like I had no idea what was going on but he knew and would start in his little rage fits.
I was scared of him. I'm 5'2", 135 lbs and he was 6'5" 220 lbs and looked like a biker, with a bald head and long mustauch complete with lots of tattoos. I started to just not come home for days at a time, then when I got home he would scream at me that he was looking for me cause he needed to use my car for a job interview. Whatever. One day he left for awhile so I looked through his stuff. I found a bunch of my stuff hidden in his room but then I found his prison/parole paperwork. This guy was/is Bi-Polar, has multiple personality disorder and is supposed to be on heavy psyc meds. He had also gotten in 4 or 5 fights in prison and the CO's noted that he had "worrysome behavior that leads to violence"-or something like that.
I wasn't sure what to do just yet and didn't confront him until a couple days later. Well what sent me over the edge to finally tell him was something I found on my computer. I was going through all these hidden folders cause I was getting alot of viruses and in looking through one file, I found pictures of my roommate wearing my red lacy bra and white lacy underwear. Just sittin' there on the couch with his hairy chest. He had taken the pics himself from my webcam.
I was totally disturbed by them and I got up, walked into his room and said flat out: "I don't want you selling drugs out of my house anymore." He simply said "ok, I wont." Then I started in about the disrespect he had been showing me lately, so he brought up the fact that something was missing from his room, so I brought the fact that the things that was missing was MINE; what else was mine was the computer and I didn't appreciate the porn he had on there not to mention the pics of him I had just found. He was floored. We were both yelling at that point and my friend who was over, heard everything-and he knew that. He got so pissed and said that his private business was his private business.
I rebutted with the fact that the computer was mine so I had every right to go through all the files. He said that the pics weren't supposed to be there. I told him they were and that I would delete them but he needed to get out-that night. He said he had been looking for other places already and that since he was living there for more than 30 days, he had 30 days to get out.
Some girl came by around 10 am to pick him up, as he was leaving, I asked for my keys back. He said he would give me the keys when he was all done moving out. I told him it had better be today and he said fuck you, then walked out. I was upset and scared so I was gonna stay with a friend. Well when I walked out to my car...it was gone. That's right. The fucker stole my car. Along with ALL my personal information, previous bills, medical info, computer logons...everything. I did get my car back and he was arrested at the time for the GTA. That cost me a whole day and $135 and left me frustrated to Hell with my local PD for giving me the run around. Oh ya-AND he called me collect from jail and left a message saying "you'll regret this"
You're not gonna believe this....He was trying to hook up with a 13 year old girl online and was selling drugs. (That 13 year was old more like a 20-something undercover cop) The cops were pissed that they couldn't bring him in and absolutely TORE my place apart. In his room, in the stuff he had left behind, there was a pipe and a big baggie of drugs. The cops were assholes and I told them it was his, but I could tell that they didn't want to leave my place empty handed. My friend who was with me was on probation and I have no record so I told the cops I would take the charge for the drugs.
They said that they didn't want someone to just TAKE them, they wanted to know who it belonged to. After working it out with them, I was arrested and booked, 3 cities away. Turns out that what I thought was gonna be a misdemeanor, was a felony. I now have a court date for a felony. The ass-hole was released (COP'd) has been trying to hack my computer and is trying to get full administrator access to all my utilities and phones.
I have MORE than learned my lesson on roommates: never again!
Lindsey
Monday, December 18, 2006
James has left a new comment on your post "I have never felt so unwelcome anywhere!":
Read the original post:
Geez, that reminds me of 3 months ago when I returned to Arizona! I took a house rental on 116th and Alabama. NEVER AGAIN FOLKS! NEVER AGAIN. Oh my gosh...I decided to put a roommate ad on myspace searching for a decent roommate offering a place around the area, and decided to see how it went.
There was this big fat lady who answered it back and directed me to her profile. Ugh. Ok, now I figured I'd be nice and hospitable and make it work. I try to not look at people only from the outside and said to myself come on now, don't be shallow.
I wish I would have been shallow AND crude now.
It was all nice and wonderful over email, myspace, and even on the phone until I got there! It turned out that this nasty 380lb plumper wanted me to be her sex slave and worship her for being a BBW! I said HELLL NOOO!!! I am NOT into that. Then she told me ok, well if you want to be my roommate and you don't want to sleep with me, you have to be gone at least 13 hours per day to give me time to find and fuck other men. WHAAAAT?! WHAAAT?!! Omg. I came there to be a roommate, NOT an on-call dildo for the Michelin-man's sister. And I wasn't going to pay to live there when I wasn't allowed to live there! Wtf. She decided that she didn't want a roommate after I told her there might be times I'm not at work for more than 8 hours and decide to come home and spend time at my room. She wanted me to move out at the end of the month, but I told her if she gave me even half of what I paid her back I'd move out the next day. It was a deal.
Today's lesson: Never, EVER move in with a fat nasty sex-crazed BBW from myspace! You'll regret it.