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Some of my housemate stories from past threads:
| quote: | Originally posted by Sushipunk
Ah yes. Nothing like the Jekyll and Hyde type of flatmates
I was 19 and moved into a random share house in Toowong. Lovely folk living there, just lovely.
Two weeks later, I now know that the two girls living there are HARDCORE christians. I don't have too much of an issue with that, but they were bordering on fundamentalist type behaviour, which at 19 I guess I wasn't really...errr...prepared for.
They were, however, the least of my worries.
It was a student share house. The (smart) guy, that moved out just before I moved in, was the TV owner. Me, being wicked cool, had a 34cm TV (hahahaha YES! A full 13.39 inches!) to offer the household.
One of my flatmates, the chilled relaxed Irish guy, would always chill on the deck, sometimes with us all, playing guitar, singing along to stuff. All kinds of stuff. It was great.
He could get a bit 'erratic' though.
Like the time, while all 4 other house members were sitting watching [my] TV. Some show, probably crap, but damn...we were watching it. Not at a loud volume either.
Next thing you know, he runs (I am NOT exaggerating, he fucking ran) into the room, shouted various obscenities at us, grabbed my fucking TV and threw it out the door. Threw. Out the door. I have to at least concede that it was a good throw too, it went a good 10 meters and basically turned to shit upon it's landing.
And he was angry at US 
I mean, what do you really say to that? Especially since he RAN away after it. Yes, RAN.
Only later, about 2 months after the household broke up (who would have guessed ) that I found out from some of the Irish guy's friends, and one of my other flatmates, that he was a heroin junky. He used to regularly go to Albert Park (at one time a prominent hang out for gay guys looking for male prostitutes) and sell his arse for smack money.
The 'erratic' behaviour finally made sense.
RIP, my poor TV |
| quote: | Originally posted by Sushipunk
Oooh, that reminds me of my flatmate Chuck.
Chuck was one of the guys I lived with in the acid party house when I was 17/18. The only thing he ever had in his kitchen cupboard was rice. And it was the same bag of rice the entire time. All he ate was junk food and take-out. Somehow he remained as skinny as a twig, too (though I was to later find out that he had a pretty healthy amphetamine habit, which probably helped). He never drank, either. Said "it made him into a bad person".
Out of all of us, he was the only one with a car. We had a tin in the kitchen where everyone would put their rent, and on rent day someone would take it into the real estate agents. Due to having the car, this task mostly fell on Chuck. Up until the last 3 months of the lease, that is.
He lost his job, but didn't tell us. So, instead of taking the rent in, he just kept it. All of it. The funny part is that the real estate people never even called us to let us know that no rent hadn't been paid in 3 months, until like 2 weeks before we moved out. We confronted Chuck, and he still denied it, blaming it on a computer error in the real estate agency. We fucking knew, though
We pretty much bailed on the house and the rent, and lost the bond on the place. I felt bad at the time because the lease was in the name of an ex-flatmate who was overseas at the time of all this, and he came back home to find his name blacklisted for rentals in Brisbane. He turned out to be a total cocksucker though, so I'm LOLing now. At a later stage when I was living with him, he once threatened me with a knife over a disagreement about Grand Theft Auto (the game). Fucking loser
Chuck is now dead, incedentally. He had a cardiac arrhythmia, apparently, and died of a heart attack while smoking a bong. |
| quote: | Originally posted by Sushipunk
Thankfully, I've never had a bad trip before.
My friend had a pretty swell time though. At some point about 3 hours into the trip, she completely 'forgot' (???) that she was human, and didn't know that other people around were human either. She lost all language skills (both the ability to communicate and the ability understand that others were trying to communicate with her), and for a while lost nearly all motor skills as well. She couldn't walk, or move, or anything. This lasted for 9+ hours, when she broke the silence with "Who are you guys?". It took her another 2 hours to remember who we were, and what was going on.
She never took acid again after that, lol.
I double dosed the same acid that night too I guess it effects different people in completely different ways. |
| quote: | Originally posted by Sushipunk
The house I moved into after that, in Red Hill, I was the only straight guy out of the 4 guys living there. Came home late from Uni/drinking one night and there were about 10 naked guys (including the 3 I lived with) in the living room, all fucking/blowing/etc. each other 
"Uhhh, fuck, sorry. I... Ummm, think I'll hang out in my room..." |
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Last edited by Sushipunk on Mar-24-2012 at 03:02
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