Aunt Becky Strikes Back
Now, you didn’t really expect your Aunt Becky to sit idly by while her crazy roommate oozed craziness all over the place, now did you? If you did, well, shame on you. Because if you don’t know me by nowwwww……
Hah.
Aunt Becky puts the AGGRESSIVE in Passive-Aggressive, you know.
———-
When it means butterfly and I first met, she told me that since she was bringing dishes to our room, I didn’t need to bring my own. And without knowing just how fucking nuts she was about her stuff, I listened.
Mistake #1
Aunt Becky: 0
It means butterfly: 1.
A couple of months into our precious Maxi-Pad experience (this is what Stimps and I called our floor), after I’d been using her dishes to eat my delicious vittles on, and immediately washing afterwards, she blew into the room one day in a complete tizzy.
She immediately began yelling at me about not washing HER dishes quickly enough, which stunned me into momentary silence. Back then and to this day, I unfailingly make sure that dirty dishes are taken care of. It’s just something that I do. The only one who had not washed the dishes for days on end was her, not me.
I sat there and listened with a look of horror on my face for sure, and as she continued ranting at me about it, I began scheming.
Mistake #2
Aunt Becky: 1
It means butterfly: 1
What she didn’t know is just what a shitty person I can be if provoked. And I ASSURE you that getting up in my grill about something I didn’t even DO WRONG is the last thing you’re going to want to do to me. If I’d done it, I’d have owned it, but since I didn’t, I got seethingly angry.
Rather than lashing back at her which would have just made her erupt in ugly fat tears, I decided to get even that night, when she had night class.
I waited until she left for class, grabbed Stimpy and got to work. I took every single plate of hers and licked it. I licked it, I goobered on it, and I put it back dripping with my saliva knowing that it would quickly dry in the warm Chicago fall weather.
Then I found her toothbrush and took it into the bathroom and bathed it in the toilet water for about 5 minutes.
Oh yes, yes I did.
Ain’t NOBODY done fuck with Aunt Becky and get away with it.
Aunt Becky: 3
It means Butterfly: 1
Another week passed, and it means butterfly went back to the farm for a weekend sure to be full of cow-tipping and outhouse peeing, and my mind began to churn. What else could I do to this fucking bitch?
The answer came in the form of my friend Mikey, who’d come up from Geneva to hang with me for the weekend. It means butterfly liked Mikey, so she agreed to let him sleep in her bed when she was gone. Mikey decided that the proper course of action was to wipe boogies on her pillow case. I didn’t know that he’d done this until she came home and accused me of doing this within 5 seconds of her arrival. She was nuts like that.
Hehehe.
What she hadn’t realized is that had also, throughout the weekend, farted on her pillow countless times.
Aunt Becky: 4 5
It means butterfly: 1
I’d like to sit back and tell you how much I regret being such a bitch to it means butterfly, and how I would never, ever do anything like this ever again but it would be a lie. Once provoked, I’m a complete bitch.
Dave is so going to come home tonight and smell his toothbrush for evidence that I peed on it. Little does he know that what I really did was to pee on his pillow.
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Dish time for you, my loves. Tell me what the most vindictive thing you’ve ever done. And if you’re GOOD, I will tell you what I did that is missing from this list.
Hehehe.
Ok- that is really funny. I can totally see myself being that vengeful too– but remind me to stay on your good side.
There was this kid who lived next door to my friend when we were in fifth grade (yes, I started with The Wicked very early in life) who wouldn’t leave us alone. We’d get off the bus at her house, and he’d be sitting in her room. So, anyway, he came over while we were on her deck (the deck of mole fame, if you’ll recall) and we told him to leave. He didn’t and asked what we were doing. We told him eating chocolate drops and he asked for one. She gave him one and he ate it, right before running home crying because she gave him a rabbit turd from her pet rabbit.
Hmm. Usually when I’m dealing with the Passives, I passive back. The roommate who refused to cook and glommed onto everyone else’s dinner? For a week we all just refused to cook. She at popcorn and about died. The roommate who refused to do dishes? We all decided to cease and desist. Lesson actually learned, there. If they leave dead birds in my freezer, I’m outta there. Once in grade school I put a whole bunch of soap in my music teacher’s coffee while she was out of the room. Was never called on it even though, DUH! You got me. It’s only really fun though when they figure it out, isn’t it.
Things NOT to do if ever invited to Aunt Becky’s for a sleepover:
1. Drink milk (or anything with “milk” products in it)
2. Sleep
3. Eat on anything other than paper plates
4. NO UTENSILS
5. Hide toothbrush
6. Hide pillow
7. Piss off Aunt Becky
Things NOT To Do if ever Invited to Aunt Beckys for a sleepover (REVISED)
1. Say yes
Years ago, a broker I worked for had an asswipe of a client who popped off with “G passed that exam? I didn’t think she was smart enough” Yah, not kidding.
He was also a gem and would take his morning piss while talking on the phone to the broker.
So, I printed out labels with his name and address. Then I stuck them to each and every magazine postcard, marked BILL ME LATER and sent them off. At least 30 of them. Mostly OUT type magazines and other odd types.
To this day, it’s still one of my proudest moments. Asshole. I hope he is STILL getting that crap.
That’s just tip of the iceberg in vengeful G land.
You are hilarious! I can’t even tell you how much I have enjoyed reading these posts about your old roommate and then reminiscing with my husband about mine. The only thing I can really think of is when one of my roommates was too lazy to do her own dishes, and since we refused to do them, they piled up pretty fast. So after about a week we just took the whole dirty pile of dishes and piled them on her bed, so she couldn’t sleep until she did them. It didn’t really work though. She was so lazy that she just put them on the floor and went to bed.
In high school, there was a girl who always tagged along with our group, which would have been fine except that she would tell our secrets to her mother. So her mom would find out who had lost their virginity, who had drank alcohol, etc. and then call our parents and tell on us. So at the next sleepover we had, we baked dog food into her brownies. She totally ate them and to this day has no idea!
I’m not a vindictive sort – or maybe I’m just too timid.
But my friend? We worked together. Eventually she quit her job – she hated out boss. On the last day, we all went out for drinks. She went back to the office to pick up her stuff, and had sex with her boyfriend – on the bossman’s desk. Spooge on memos and everything.
Scary stuff Becky –
Let’s see, generally I am too afraid of karma to be vindictive since when I do I am usually socked with consequences within seconds. With this in mind my vindictiveness is really pretty lame. After Husband No. 5 sued me for divorce, while he was still living here, and his (6) cats were destroying my home and without the decency to tell me he was doing such a thing I went to the local apple store and put his phone number in the iphones on display under “bam nimbo.” Then we told people to call him – he is one of those guys who regards his cell phone as an emergency only thing and he HATES to use his minutes.
I also dragged his coat and his “man bag” through the cat pee his animals were leaving everywhere.
Oh, and I smashed his glasses, but not the glass, just the frames. And not his good glasses, just his cheap ones.
Oh, I went through his files and ripped up every card I ever sent to him.
I had a boss once, a million years ago. She was a lesbian (who was losing her hair from the front, every month her hairline would recede), I am not a lesbian. But I am quite liberal and was pleased to be in her company. The job was for a State Agency, I was a case worker and had a caseload of about 85-95 at any one time….it was a stressful job, a very stressful job.
She decided to cozy up to me as I was single and am a friendly sort. When I realized that she was asking me on a date, I declined stating my orientation and asked if she would like to go with a group of us at the end of the week for drinks…she declined. She was bitter, very bitter.
She reassigned another 20 cases to me the very next morning and completely stopped talking to me. This was in 1990….Rogaine for Woman had just been mildly introduced to the market. I found the phone number, on a 4am infomercial, jotted it down, and then requested the free sample that they were hawking, be sent directly to her home in a non-descript brown wrapper. Exactly ONE week later, I paid $50 to have a bottle of it sent to her office, NOT in a brown wrapper. It came in a glorious box, all Blue and Black, with BIG letters on it…
She burst out of her office, stood in front of my desk, and shouted (in front of 20 colleagues, we worked in one huge room)…..YOU Bitch…I know it was you who sent this to me…..to which I replied….LOUDLY….I was just thinking maybe if you had some fucking hair near your face, you could find a girlfriend and leave me the fuck alone…..
I transfered to another department (a promotion) about 3 months later. Neither of us have ever spoken another word to the other.
I Love It….I wish I had more stories like this. Rock on Aunt Becky…keep the stories coming.
xo
A friend of mine recently related that her ex-boyfriend used to pee in his roommate’s shampoo. Apparently, the roommate was a complete ass and deserved it.
I wish I could lay claim to such fuckery, but the worst I ever did was write strange runic script on someone’s door when she irked me beyond belief. Doesn’t sound like much until you add in that I am pagan, she most definitely wasn’t, and while I’m not superstitious, she was…deeply. She had no idea what I’d written, but was convinced that every bad thing that happened to her for the rest of the year was because of what I wrote. The only way I could have improved on this was to duct-tape a chicken foot to her door (complete with painted toenails, because the weirdness would have been delightful)(you can get chicken feet from many Chinese buffets)(don’t ask).
What I wrote translated to something like “You suck frog balls, bitch” or maybe “Quit using my freakin’ toothpaste you throwback to a troglodyte!!”. I know, not very original, but I wasn’t terribly clever back then…
I guess I’m not awfully vindictive, although I’ve been known to suggest means of vengeance to friends who were slighted but stumped…when it comes to my own affronts, I’m more of a “walk away and make someone live with themselves” type. Still, perhaps one day someone will anger me enough to try the dead fish in the AC intake…
Shade and Sweetwater,
K
Well I have WANTED to smash my husband’s computer and/or camera, but never have. Well, never YET.
After a bad break up, my ex boyfriend (yes, boyfriend) was going to be out of town for a week. I just so happened to still have a key to his car, which was parked outside of his apartment. My bff and I formulated a plan, and put it into action. She shit in a bag..(yes, she could poop on demand..i think it was all the Coors Light) while I was driving over there..and we left the bag sitting in his front seat with the windows rolled up. Did I mention that it was summer..and I lived in New Mexico at the time? Do you have any idea what hot, week old poop smells like? Me neither..but he does! : )
I have learned that Karma is a bitch who is happiest when she gets to exact her own revenge, so I rarely take it on myself to get in her way!
However, in high school there was a boy who decided to tell the world that we had had sex (though he BARELY got to 2nd base!)
I’m pretty sure that (due to the rumours of his disfigured and diseased state,) he never got laid by anyone at that school again!
I hav no idea where those rumours started though… [whistles innocently}
In more recent times… I had an OCD boss who was NUTS about his desk. Everything had to be in EXACTLY the correct spot (down to the millimeter!) Well my desk theory is closer to being “there must be a desk under there somewhere!” so he was on my case A LOT about the state of my desk (note: no clients ever saw my desk.)
At random intervals I would re-arrange his desk for him. Never a lot, just… shift everything slightly. Lame (I know!) but it would drive him to distraction until everything was back in place. And of course, I also moved one or two less obvious things, so he could come across my handiwork days later, even after he thought he’d fixed it all.
well all I can say is..whoa, move over Lindsay, you have competition in the bitch department.
Hmm, well the worst thing “I” think I have done, was spit in a “frenemies” hair, while she was sleeping on the school bus. a big gob of it too.
I just let it slowly build up, bent over the seat, and let it slowly dribble into her hair, with a bus full of others watching(but not saying anything) she had no clue in that it was summer, so she just thought she was sweaty.
OMG, Becky. OMG.
You should know that I am worshiping you right now.
Mine’s a little more passive-aggressive, but I still count it among my favorites.
I had a pact with a friend that we didn’t date each other’s exes. So when we found out that her boyfriend was messing around, she dumped him. He turned his sights on me.
Well, I needed a new headliner (ceiling covering) in my car because it was starting to fall and he knew how to do just such a job.
He came over, took my car and the plaid fabric I had bought back to the shop where he worked. My car came back with a new headliner – no labor charge.
He thought we’d make-out or something. I told him to fuck off – that my friend was more important than him. But thanks for the headliner!
That headliner got every salesman in the place to come look inside my car when we traded it in. It was beautiful!
(This series made me google one of my old roommates. She has twin girls! I hope they don’t smell as bad as she used to.)
I’m trying to remember my vengance and I’m having some trouble. I know I’m a vindictive bitch and I know I’ve done some pretty nasty shit in the name of DO-Not-Fuck-With-Leslee-She-Is-Teh-EVIL, but I can’t come up with anything other than the time I got banned from looking at a girl my senior year in high school.
Yeah. You read that right. I was banned from LOOKING at this chick! And I didn’t even do anything all that awesome.
So, I’m pretty protective of my friends and this chick started telling people that he had tried to rape her at knife point in an empty classroom. 3 problems with that. 1~ While my friend talks a big game, if you haven’t wronged him, he will NOT wrong you intentionally. 2~ If he were to do something threatening involving a knife, I’m relatively certain there would be blood involved and not just a teeny amount. 3~ EW! he has standards and she fell WAY below them.
When I caught wind of what she said, I was PISSED. I made someone point her out to me, which she happened to see, so I glared at her. She ran away from me. From that point on, I would follow her around and just stare at her. Now, I’m not sure if you can tell from any of the random pictures I have on my blog of myself, but I like my eye make up DARK. Black, actually. And my hair was always dyed burgundy back then and I wore at LOT of black. Think half assed goth kid. Anyway, I followed her around for months, just staring. My other friends would call her names (the favorite was Speed Racer cuzz she wore the same pair of jeans with a racing stripe on them EVERY DAY) and throw out other random insults. I never said a word, I simply stared. When she looked at me, I would stare her dead in the eye and not blink. I was late to every single class, but it didn’t matter too much and I really wouldn’t have cared if it did.
One day, I got called out of Choir to go to the Vice Principal’s office. I figured she was gonna ask me if I had skipped class a few days before. Imagine my surprise when I walked in and saw Speed Racer! She had apparently been crying. I can’t say for sure cuzz she kept turning her head away from me. The vice principal told me that I had threatened to kick this girl’s ass on a daily basis. I told her that I had done no such thing, had never said a word to her and explained everything I was doing and why.
The vice pricipal sat there for a minute, just staring at this girl. She finally asked her if everything was true and Speed Racer told her that it wasn’t through her crocodile tears. Vice Principal told her that she was more inclined to believe me cuzz I had always been honest (seriously. the first time she asked me if I skipped school and told her that I had, I thought she was gonna shit her pants) and Speed Racer had lied about something else prior. Finally, the ruling came down. I wasn’t in any trouble, but if I were caught looking at Speed Racer again, I’d get detention.
I walked out of the office and went around the corner. 15 minutes later, Speed Racer came out and walked around the same corner. I followed her closer than I ever had before, just staring at her. When she turned around to go to the Vice Principal to tell her, I followed. Speed Racer tattled and when the Vice Principal asked me why I was staring at her when I had been told not to, I told her that I wasn’t staring, merely following and I had to look at her to make sure I wouldn’t run into her.
I saw her a couple years ago when I was working. Her boyfriend/husband (not sure which) came over and talked to me, but she refused to come within 50 feet of me. Of course, I stared her down. Couldn’t break tradition after all!
LMAO on everyone! I got nothing to say. I can’t even come close to how sick you all are…
Oooooh! You know those HSA Flex-Spending accounts that many companies offer? Well, the big, bad corporation I worked for in KC had one, and I was signed up for it. And it just so happened that the re-enrollment period rolled around right when I had completely had my fill of the corporate BS provided at said company. So, I signed up for the maximum allowable amount – $3,000. For this, I had to agree to have a little over $100 taken out of each paycheck for the following year. And in exchange, the three grand was available immediately. So I got the braces I needed (for the third freaking time) on my teeth, submitted my claim, cashed my check, and promptly quit my job. I paid back a little over $200. Suck that corporate asses!
First off, it really sounds like you roomed with my ex-wife.
When I first moved away from home, I lived in a house with two other guys. One of them was a totall freak. Like, this guy was *not* getting chicks, yet I was always finding USED CONDOMS in his trash can when I cleaned the house (hey, if I didnt take out the trash no one was going to). The guy was a friend of mine before we moved in, but living with him was a very weird thing. He had issues like the library of congress.
Well, one day when he was at work, room mate #2 and I happened to notice that he left a bottle of astroglide in the common bathroom after his shower.
Now, we were all of the age that we were past the idea that wanking it somehow meant you were gay. We all know you do it, we just really really dont want to see any evidence of it, particularly if its in the common areas of the house.
As it appened, roomie #2 had some muscle relaxant similar to flexall or bengay (a liquid heat kinda thing) that was similarly clear and viscous as the astroglide. I think you get where this is going…
Roomie #1 got back from work around 1:00 am (late shift). about 1:45, the screaming, crying, whining, and a frantic run to the shower to cool his genitals took place. The second part of this, of course, was that we turned off the water to the common bathroom…
#1 moved out about 2 months later.
For some reason my comment before didn’t come through, so here goes…my roommate after college was a friend, until later on, when we lived together and it all fell apart. She had a chihuahua that she’d leave alone in the house for days while she went off with her boyfriend, expecting me to take care of it. I got sick of stepping in pee and poop from her damn dog, so i made sure it had plenty of food and water, locked it in HER room, and let it pee and poop in there, instead of all over the house. Her boyfriend used to park his car so that it was blocking my car into the driveway, and after asking him a bunch of times to stop it, I busted his windshield with a hammer and put a rock on the hood of his car, to make it look like someone else did it. I also gave the landlord her parents’ address and phone number, since she left without paying her half of the rent and utilities when she moved in with her boyfriend. Heck, maybe I was the roommate from hell…but she started it!
You don’t suck at life. Give yourself credit. hee hee.
I’m generally too lazy to be vindictive, although I did blind copy all of my colleagues when exchanging emails with my insanely stupid former bosses. And when I used to go out and men would ask for my number, I usually gave them an exes’ number.
All this time I’ve been quite proud of my bad-ass self. You put me to shame.
I once took a small baggie, filled it with flour, and put it in plain site inside of a school-mate’s locker so when she’d open the door, everyone including the teachers would see it. I don’t know what I expected to happen since I was only in high-school…
The most memorable part of this was when she handed it over to a teacher, I watched him wet his pinkie and stick it inside the baggie and then taste the stuff – just like you would see in 80’s cop shows. I learned a lot about that teacher in that one moment of passive-agressiveness-attemptedness.
Becky, you are so fantastic for starting this entire subject. What fun! I did not realize the complexity of your personality until this thread began with the roommate and I am thoroughly and completely impressed by your aggressive nature:)
All I can add are two items:
As a junior in high school I really disliked a girl named Cindy, who acted as if she were a cousin of Mother Mary. So when she sang a solo in chorus I surreptitiously held my nose. She began crying and ran out the door.
Otherwise, I have been known to send sample packets of dick drugs and hair loss medications to fellow employees. Such fun . . .
WELL….since you asked….
The old bitch hag across the street took to trapping neighborhood felines because she claims they bother her. She’s not allergic or anything, just a complete and utter bitch. Well, we semi-adopted a stray and let him stay outside while we get him vet care, feed him, give him a little outdoor condo etc. One day I come hom to both boys crying and let me just say…my boys have come home bleeding but still not crying. She trapped George, the wee cunt. And his paw was bleeding, the heifer.
Long story short, I attempt to steal her stupid cage, she catches me, we have words in which I might’ve told her that the reason I don’t see anyone visit her is because she’s a bitter old hag. But GAWD I digress….that wasn’t really what I did. What I DID was go to a local giant bookstore and pull as many subscription cards as I could manage from as many crazy magazines as I could find. I went home and filled every last motherfucker out to “Ms. B. Itterhag” with her address.
I happen to know that the mail person still has to put her bound magazines on her front porch because there’s no room in her mailbox and I laugh and laugh and laugh….
So, I was thinking about what a bitch you are and how insane you clearly have to be and how I would NEVER do anything like that. And then I remembered.
I was living with a male shat ass fuck. After suspecting something was up I discovered condoms in his wallet. We didn’t use condoms… There were only two of a three pack left.
I found a safety pin and poked tiny holes into each of them through the wrapper and then I put them back in his wallet. And I never told a soul…
Until now.
[…] 25, 2008 · No Comments Aunt Becky over at Mommy Wants Vodka has been hilariously sharing her experiences with her college roommate. […]
oh!! I TOTALLY have a story for this!!
I was living with Fucktard (my daughter’s bio-dad), and his best friend was our roommate. The roommate who did NOTHING around the house- ate all my food without helping pay for any of it- and generally smelled like ass… well, he had issues with putting the toilet seat down too- which, when I’m sober and happy and such is not really a big deal- but when you come staggering home at 0-dark-o’clock, drunk off your ass 5 nights out of 7- having a toilet seat not put down is a BIG f’n inconvenience. After about the nthbillion time I fell in- I got fed up and decided to get even….
I agreed to make supper for everyone- my (not-so) famous chili- with extra ass-burning shit inducing powers.
I timed it well- almost as soon as he finished licking out his bowl of chili- I “had to pee”… for like, four hours… after about 1 hour he had to go… I told him I’d just be a minute… and made him wait… and wait… and wait.. and wait.. until he was literally almost weeping at the door… so I finally let him in… leaving the toilet seat UP…
I feel kinda bad for my landlord- she had to replace the toilet- my roommate weighed almost 300lbs… and when he fell in- it actually cracked the ceramic!! I can’t remember ever laughing so hard in my life!!! I honestly don’t know what was funnier- the fact that he fell in, or the fact that he got STUCK!! 😀
I swear I’m not evil!!