Will you Fiji me?

HELLO! – I’m back. It’s been a hectic few months but I finally got rid of my disgusting flatmate Matthew and moved into a lovely house.

Here’s something nice to kick off with. Do you need a holiday or just some sunshine? I bet you do. We seem to have entered a permanent winter in the UK. Fancy winning a trip to Fiji? Details after the jump.

Flatmate > in the bin!

I’ve absolutely had it with my flatmate Matthew. I woke up today to find he had done a dump right outside my bedroom door. At least he had cleaned it up, but there was a huge dark stain on the carpet. I realised he had diarrhoea as he had dumped it in the kitchen bin, on top of the kitchen rubbish.

He’s not embarrassed. He hasn’t apologised. And I’m so disgusted I could cry.

I’m ringing the letting agencies this week.

Bye bye Matthew.

A poo for you, a poo for me

One of my must-dos in the morning is to have a nice hot shower to freshen up. Ideally, in a clean bathroom. My lovely flatmate Matthew obviously doesn’t believe cleanliness is the height of godliness. We all know men who don’t give a seconds thought to a dirty floor but this one has got to top the lot.

I banged on the bathroom door for Matthew to come out as he had been in the bathroom for ages, as usual. (I’m talking, like, half an hour, and this guy doesn’t even have a job to go to.) So, I was skitting about thinking I’m going to be late for work, when Matthew opened the door and came out with a big grin on his face. I went in and the first thing to hit me was the smell. Oh dear sweet Jesus. Then I saw the floor. Arrrrrgghhhhhhhhh. The floor was wet, sticky, and covered in bits of toilet tissue. Most of them were covered in excrement.

I grabbed his towel off the handrail and threw it on the floor, dry heaved my way through a very quick shower and ran out of the house. When I got home, I checked the floor and he had picked up the dirty bits, but there were still white bits of tissue everywhere, so I hoovered and got out the bucket and bleach. He had obviously laundered his towels but not cleaned the floor! Oh well, that’s all right then!

This is the second poo episode to happen and it’s two too many. I’m just about ready to move out now!

Your worst flatmate ever?

London is such an expensive city to live in, that it’s quite common for people to share with a flatmate / roommate. I’ve heard some horror stories but I wonder if anyone can beat this.

I’ve been sharing a house with a guy who’s really quite sweet. Matthew is 30, very quiet, keeps himself to himself, we get along fine. He had an accident so doesn’t walk too well, and uses a wheeled walker to help him keep his balance. One morning, I got up and headed for the bathroom. When I came out, Matthew was in the hall, on his way to the bathroom himself, with an orange Sainsburys plastic bag hanging from the handlebars of his walker. I moved to let him pass, and saw some things on the carpet. We have a pale beige carpet which shows up everything (why must landlords always insist on putting in cream or beige carpets? They are hell to keep clean). Being very short sighted, and it being first thing in the morning, I couldn’t see very well. What are these brown things on the carpet? I couldn’t work it out. Then when I walked past, I caught a whiff of the smell.

Dear. God. Almighty.

Matthew had only gone and done a poo in his bedroom and must have been carrying it across the hall to the bathroom and dropped the lot.

I ran out for my office as fast as I could. Believe me, I was dry heaving for the rest of the day.