Worst. Roommate. Ever.

So, these are all "after " photos. Like, Jared from Subway type "after." This is how Mister Robert L. left his room when he mercilessfully vacated the premises after being evicted by yours truly when he adamantly refused to clean up after himself. Nine large trash bags were required to transport the spoiled and festering debris of his life to the dumpster where it had badly needed to go for far too long already. The maids bill for dealing with it? $235. The joy of having him gone, priceless.


I couldn't resist a black and white shot, crime scene style. Again, this is AFTER he left. This is the mess he left for me to deal with, even though I had been paying his rent for him.
He says he was depressed--so sad he couldn't find it in himself to get a job or clean up.

Normally the proper word for somebody like that is "homeless."


He left dirty pans, filled with the stinking spoils of some white trash buffet he had concocted. Half an onion and a small rotting chunk of cheese laid waiting for me on the cutting board when I returned home from school. It was like one of those Rapture movies--except this one took place in a trailer park, which just so happened to sadly double as my apartment.

I think the photo of a blank employment application says it all. Sadly, the small forest of his pubic hairs which adorned it didn't show up in the photo. Which begs the question, what did he do with those things??

Magically, he found a way to blame me for his sad state of affairs. He felt bad and I didn't help, I just payed his bills,and asked him to do his dishes. I'm such an asshole.

Man, now that he's gone, I gotta wonder what would happen if I ever had kids for real??

Okay, I'm done ranting for now. Who's next?