As I write this post, Mr. T is banging his head against the wall in his room.

Hope anyone who reads this had a Happy Thanksgiving!
This year I was thankful for not having to live with Suitemate for the break.
Mr. I, Mr. T, Mr. H, Mr. X and I got back to the suite yesterday after one week without Suitemate.
Oh what a wonderful night that was without him... No worry about stench, or incessant talking.
This morning, however, Suitemate walks in and once he steps into his door, he goes off
He talks continuously for almost 30 minutes until Mr. X leaves for class.
It might not seem that bad, but its not that he talks continuously, but he talks LOUDLY and OBNOXIOUSLY as well.

We'll see how this week goes.
-Mr. Q

Guess Whats Back, Back Again, The Smell is Back, Tell a Friend

yup, he went out and got another cheese steak today,

ughhh its horrible, you could smell it when walking down the hallway to the suite

and then in the suite, it just filled each room one by one...

even if the door was closed, the stench would come out from underneath

Suitemate smells horrible, wonder if he brings his clothes home for laundering?

Haven't seen him do any laundry here... oh and about clothes

Last week, he went to one class, or so he said, and he slept in each day for like 4 days straight

In his bed, in the same clothes each day... :shudders:

My god....it's everywhere...the curly little bastards are everywhere!

Mr T, here. Suitemate has been grating on everyone as of late; I am no exception. I do, however, have a rather personal gripe about him. As you've probably read, I was extremely sick a few weeks back. That is, to say, I was sick and then proceeded to go out drinking. With each condition seperately, I would have been fine, but combine a stomach flu with six shots and an equal number of beers, and you can color me sick.

So, after a night of libations, I came back to the dorm. Suitemate was in the common room, carving a pumpkin. I went to the kitchen and started drinking water, he came in and we had a conversation which I remember very little of; I was preoccupied with the rising bile in my stomach. I moved things along to the common room, feeling sicker by the second, and turned the TV on. Suitemate joined me on the couch and started talking about fucking chickens, or something equivalently disturbing. Shortly thereafter, I politely told him that if he didn't stop talking, I would promptly puke all over him, and also that I would puke all over him even if he kept talking. I proceeded to lower myself to the floor so I didn't further contaminate the couch (It wasn't exactly clean, I mean, think about who was sitting on it with me) with my booze laden vomit.

As I was laying there, trying to keep the pink elephants down, he comes over with one of those red Solo™ cups that are at every kegger and 8th birthday party in the known world, and gives it to me. Now, I don't know if any of you have ever attempted to puke into a Solo Cup, but I would have trouble doing it sober. Drunk? Forget it. I was covered. Now, for whatever reason, the bastard leaves the room. That's right, he leaves the room with a drunk on the floor who's trying to fit the last six hours into a cup the size of a pear. That's like trying to cram an elephant into a toll booth: hard as hell and the excess goes all over the place. The bastard couldn't even drag me over to the toilets (which reminds me of another incident I must relate).

Cue blankout number one of two for the evening. I remember laying there puking on the floor, but in my condition I had no concept of time. What seemed like 30 seconds, at the time, turned out to be closer to 20 minutes. He went for help, but apparently was distracted by the pretty flashing lights on the magic moving photograph box in the girl's room.

After he managed to remember that I was covering the floor of our room in all sorts of nasty, the girls from next door came over, along with some of my fellow Lettermen. I feel badly about what they had to do. I pride myself on being a very clean and self sufficent drunk, but this was one of the times that everyone has where they fuck up. So, there was lots of cleaning, talking behind hands, and rubbing of my GI tract, those guys all rock: I owe them big time. I remember, at one point, looking up and seeing the majority of the friends I have here looking down at me. I think I said something like "Oh....shit. Everyones here...." and then continued puking into my cup. Where was suitemate during all of this? Toasting his pumpkin seeds in the toaster oven I bought. The fucker wasn't even going to be bothered by the fact that I was sick, and I'm the only person in the whole room who would give him the time of day if he asked. Well, I would have before that night.

Once I was well enough to stop puking every thirty seconds, the Lettermen escorted me to the shower and locked me inside. I stripped down and proceeded to shower. Cue blackout two of two for the evening, because I thought I was in there for maybe half an hour. I'm told it was three times that, and that I had the following conversation with Mr Q:

Q: T, are you ok in there?

Me:I don't know, Sam. (Q's name isn't sam. In fact, there isn't a Sam anywhere in our entire building, to my knowlege.)

Q: What? What the hell are you talking about?

Me:What's the Number? Is it home or cell?

Q: Your phone isn't ringing...



I remember nothing of that, which is about how much is left to the story. I put on my boxers and dragged my white ass off to bed and slept the rest of the booze off. If I ever fuck up again and drink while sick, I'm making it my number one priority to puke into his sock drawer before I pass out.



The more astute readers will have no doubt noticed that there has been no mention so far of "curly little bastards" in the post so far. Well, get ready: here they come.

Toilet bowls are not the cleanest things, by any measure. I like to think that we keep the ones in our room cleaner than the average room of six men would. About four weeks in, we noticed an accumulation of what were quite obviously shaved pubic hairs around the rim of the toilet bowl. I had no idea, at the time, that they were Suitemate's. None of us did, really. We all assumed that the guilty party would have the common decency to clean them up. After a week of them being on the toilet, the other five of us had talked enough that we knew that none of us had done it. That left only one person...Suitemate.

We made snide remarks, we made sutble allusions, we even went so far as to say "Whoever the fuck put their pubes on the toilet needs to clean that shit up!". Nothing. He did absoloutely nothing about it. After two weeks, I couldn't take it anymore. I sprayed the toilet rim down with lysol, put on gloves and grabbed a paper towel. Problem solved, but I will never forgive him for leaving that on the toilet. No one should let it get to the point where it's unbearable for others and they end up cleaning your god damn pubic hair.



-Mr T

Smell is back!!! gahhhhh

What a fucker... we had like 2 days of good polluted philly air and now its a combination of body odor and rotten food... i asked him nicely to clean his shit up... we will see what happens

He cleaned it!!!

"Mr. I is our saviour"... what can i say... but it still smells a little... it died down... he still has half of a cheese steak... he gets cheese steaks at least once every other day... cheese steaks have to be worse than mcdonalds... and i saw supersize me...
I have a solution... we burn down happy star!!!!

An Introduction

Welcome to Things I Hate About My Suitemate,
by now, you have either heard of, smelled, or seen the suitemate that is the topic of this blog.
If not, thats alright, you may have been sent a link to this site, and are welcome to read my stories.
To keep everyones identities secret, we are going to call him Suitemate
Mr. Q, is what i will be calling myself here. Also posting soon will be Mr. H, Mr. I, Mr. T , and Mr. X.
All of my posts will be in this colour, as to differentiate from the others.
We have started this blog really late, so I will post a recap of the last 6 weeks first.

--

So the story of the suitemate from hell- goes a little something like this...

it started about a week after I moved in, the other suitemates started to move in, in the room next to mine, there was Mr. T, and Mr. H, and the room next to theirs was Mr. X and Suitemate.
All of us are freshmen, except for Suitemate, he left school last year for 2 terms because he had mono... according to him
and he came back this year to finish off his freshman year.
For the entire first week of classes, he didn’t go to a single class, and stayed in bed all day
then at night time he would get up and sit at his computer playing a video game or watching stargate.
We didn’t think anything of it, because he was a freshman last year, he should know how to deal with college.
Then the stench started to come...
we didn’t know what it was, and we barely saw him out of his room...
the smell was actually coming from his trash and him
in the 2 weeks that we lived with him, none of us had seen him shower..

It wasn’t until Girl A from across the hall came over and bitched at him for having a 'trash-hole' of a room that he decided to clean...
that night, we saw him take out over 20 empty bottles of orangina and Snapple and 3 bags of food containers, like 7-11 hot dogs, cheese steaks and what not
he then proceeded to spray axe all over his room and into the hallway.. I almost choked
that morning he took a shower... finally
but he also shaved, and left his hair all over the sink
so we brought it up in a suite meeting... and signed the suitemate agreements
we added into the agreement that showers every other day would be a requirement
and we all signed it...
1 week passes, and not much happens..
Then the next weekend, during week 4... We start coming down with flu like symptoms and stomach viruses... this could have been a number of things, dining hall food, lack of sleep, but the suite was def. a lot dirtier than it should ever be.
and the stench comes back...
this time worse than before... and it smells like rancid body odor
he's been eating many cheese steaks in his room for lunch and dinner.
Then yesterday-
when Mr. I walks over to his door, and stands there looking in...
he then says 'why do you have sooooo much trash in your room, I cant even see the floor or your desk...' and Suitemate tells him that he is cleaning it up now... then he starts cleaning up
again, he brings out over 20 empty bottles of orangina and arizona, this time however, Mr. I goes to the box he put them in and looks at it... then he yells "OHHHH SHIITTTTT OMG!!! EWWWW"... turns out, some of the bottles were growing mold on the bottoms.... NASTY

the smell is somewhat gone, but its still there... Mr. I comments on how he doesn’t shower and how he doesn’t shave...then that night Suitemate showers and the smell is almost gone...
this afternoon after I got back from class however, there are hairs all over the sinks
the same sinks that I spent an hour cleaning because I am giving tours this weekend to prospective parents!

not only is he DIRTY, but he is not social either...
one night while walking back from the drugstore with Girl A and Girl B, he told us a few stories about his childhood. Not only did that freak out the girls across the hall... but it makes me wonder... did he really leave school last year due to mono? most people who are bi-polar are also compulsive liars...
he is also inconsiderate of personal space and belongings
I have this jade that I wear, my grandparents bought it for me in china
and its because they are pretty religious, and superstitious- and one of the superstitions is that certain people have bad luck during certain years, this year I am one of them... and I guess its true, cause we got him as a suitemate...
but they got me this dragon to wear to protect me from bad luck, and nobody else is supposed to touch it.
During one of the first days here, he asked about it, along with a few girls from across the hall, and I told them, that it’s a religious thing, that nobody is supposed to touch.
Then this week... he comes into my room...
and he points at it while I'm working on my desk... and he asks "so I’m not supposed to touch it?" and I tell him "your not to touch it" and he grabs it
he just went and touched it even though I had told him more than 3 times before not to!
At that point, I was fed up with him, I went up and grabbed it out of his hands, put it on my neck
and he walked out of the room.

Another example of how inconsiderate he is...
the other night, Friday before Halloween... Mr. T, Suitemate and the girls across the hall go partying
Mr. X and I go across the hall to watch movies with the other girls who stayed...
about an hour later, Suitemate comes back with Girl C who is feeling sick...
he sits on the counter talking about how he doesn’t know his tolerance... and I sit there looking at him like...

he then goes back to our suite to finish carving the pumpkin that he brought with him...
the pumpkin that he started carving 2 days before and left guts all over the coffee table and couch...
about 2 hours later, he comes back into the girls' suite and he sits down to watch the movie, after 1 scene, I pause the movie, and he gets up and says "hmmm maybe I should go check on Mr. T" I sit there and I’m like "Mr. Ts back? when did he get back?" and Suitemate says "oh he's been back for half an hour, he’s in our suite, puking a lot" THAT IDIOT CAME OVER TO WATCH A MOVIE INSTEAD OF TELLING US THAT OUR SUITEMATE WAS PUKING ALL OVER ALONE IN OUR SUITE?!?!!?
I rush back to our suite and Mr. X follows... Mr. T is on the floor in a puddle of puke and water
I ask Suitemate what he did earlier and he says that he gave Mr. T a few cups to puke in...
then he goes back to his pumpkin and sits there separating his pumpkin seeds from the pulp
Mr. X and I start cleaning up the puke and we get Mr. T some more water...
while were cleaning up the puke on the floor, Suitemate is standing in the hallway watching the TV behind us and I ask him what he’s watching... he then proceeds to tell me that he’s watching his pumpkin seeds in the toaster oven so that they don’t burn...
seriously, when are pumpkin seeds more important than a puking roommate on the for?
After his pumpkin seeds are done, he stands for a while watching us while eating more pumpkin seeds... and then he walks to his room...
Mr. X and I get Mr. T cleaned up, and he takes a shower, and then we get him to bed
I sit in front of the door to Mr. T’s room to make sure he’s alright, then Mr. H comes home and I go to bed.

Sunday morning Mr. I comes back from home and visiting his parents, Suitemates pumpkin innards and pumpkin are still a mess, and after being asked to clean it up, he picks up the guts and throws them out...
today... the pumpkin is still sitting there... rotting

the 5 of us that live in the suite with Suitemate have already talked with the RA about this situation, we have also talked with Suitemate more than twice, this situation is so awkward
and we don’t know how to deal with him, were going to try one more meeting with Suitemate and see if we can work out cleaning schedules or something