Family Circus of Horrors
It may shock and sadden you, Pranksters, that I was once neither Your Aunt Becky nor a mother. It’s hard to believe, so I understand if you need a couple of minutes to compose yourself.
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Done? Okay.
Approximately 383 sesquillion years ago, the girl who will be known as Your Aunt Becky went away to college. She packed all of her stuff into the back of her friend Scottie’s hot purple Neon and trundled off (very quickly) to college in the city. Loyola University Chicago, for those in the un-know.
Well, Loyola made a very, VERY grave error in judgement. They paired me with someone who I was so utterly unlike that it was a hot mess from the get go.
The first time I met my college roommate, she smelled like meat (she worked in a deli) which wasn’t too bad. What was too bad is that she was the most over-prepared person I’d met. If you know me, Pranksters, you know that I’m not exactly…*ahem* PREPARED. I’m not going to say that I fly by the seat of my pants because that’s not quite true, but I’m a definite Type B.
Sometimes (like in the case of Crys, Ben and Jana, my counterparts on Band Back Together), it works well. They can Type A me into submission whereas I can remind them that color-coding properly isn’t exactly a worthwhile investment of time.
*ducks*
But the true horror of my college roommate came to light when Scottie and I – both very drunk on vodka (which we were hilariously pronouncing with a very bad Russian accent) – moved my piles of crap into my room.
The door shut behind me, I looked at it to see that my roommate had decorated it. The quotes and the like weren’t exactly awful (albeit a little cornball). And there, in the middle of the door, it sat.
Three Family Circus cartoons.
There’s NOTHING I hate more, Pranksters, than Family Circus cartoons, with the exception of Precious Moments figurines, and GAH! next to those, were a couple of Precious Moment cartoons.
I died.
I literally died on the floor, laughing and crying. I mean, just, NO. We were 19, not 69. How was I gonna get laid with Grandma’s cartoons staring at me creepily?
It turned out, of course, that our relationship was not meant to be. She was too control-freak and I, well, I got knocked up and had to go home to pop out a crotch parasite. She meant well and all, but I couldn’t overlook the Family Circus crap. Could you?
(the answer should be a resounding no)(possibly a FUCK NO)
So thanks, Jason, for the flashbacks.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to vomit up what’s left of my breakfast.
Dish, Pranksters. Do you have any awesome roommate stories for Your Aunt Becky?
Omg too funny! Also, I think you should make a mug or mouse pad or something with your version. Just sayin…
Haha. OMG. I thought it was bad that my first dorm mate smelled like old feet and garlic! I think they purposefully put people together that should would otherwise never know the other exsits. She was a hard core (closet lesbian) bible thumper with an awesome *snort* bowl cut. She was super tall and kind of scary. Like some sort of evangelical offspring of Shrek and a Beatle. The entire room was covered in posters and cut outs of horses and Jesus. Even her bedding was horse themed. She muttered to herself constantly. I tried really hard to be nice to her but I kind of gave up after I invited her to come with a friend of mine and I out one Sunday night and she started yelling bible verses at me and calling me a harlot. Seriously, who says that anymore? LOL
Oh! and Yes! for the awesomely bad roommate story. i’ll return to share…(typing more than a sentence or three on cell is a PITA)
My first college roommate was a disaster. They could not have paired up two more opposite people. She wanted to be a dentist and study hard and all that bullshit. I wanted to hang out at a frat house and drink whiskey and bourbon. She did not find people climbing into our second story window as funny as I did. Nor did she appreciate 2am drunken serenades like I did. She put up posters of kittens, and I put up posters of Jim Morrison half naked. We lasted one semester before I moved out to live with a friend whose roommate dropped out to go to rehab.
My freshman year in college, my first semester I had pretty much the exact same sitch! I was out boozin it up every night and my (6 years old than me) roomie was fuming that I was soooooo irresponsible. She left after the first semester and I got a foreign exchange student from England as my new roomie. Her very American boyfriends were often in the room. The only problem here was that I think these boyfriends had quite a few gang affiliations. One night while I was doing my homework (read: playing on the internet) I heard sounds coming from the bed behind me. I turned around (my back faced to them while at my desk) and they were having sex! On TOP of the covers! WITH the lights on. Oh and homeboys gun was laying on the end of the bed. Just hangin out. I made a run for it and stayed in a friend room the rest of the semester!
You’re in luck. The artist of family circle just died. Like earlier this week.
I had only one real college roommate. He was from Korea (the good one) and had lived in LA for most of his life. He barely spoke any english and when people would come over it sounded like i was at the local Asia Market. Also, he didn’t shower. He also liked to go get take out Korean food and leave it sitting in the room, rotting and smelling like your local “Ma’s Chinese Kictchen”. it was awful.
I went to a three-week high school arts program when I was 16, and my roommate was a hot mess. She was a repressed Mormon who, being ashamed of her sin, refused to use the designated smoking area, and instead hotboxed herself in our dorm room closet to smoke her Marlboro Reds. She also disapproved of my music and, I shit you not, busted out an ANDREWS SISTERS CD.
This is not a college roommate story. This is a “post-divorce I need a roommate to help pay my mortgage” story. In 2010 I booted my husband. Decisively. I could technically pay the bills, but I have a 3-bedroom ranch, and really, a litle extra money would be nice and I wanted some company so I didn’t do something stupid like rush into another relationship because I wasn’t used to being alone.
She was old enough to be my mother. Sure, there’s only 18 years between my mom and I, but since I’m 38, you would think she’d be somewhat responsible right? WRONG.
Didn’t have any concept of cleaning. Apparently thought that her rent included maid service. Would leave at a moments notice and expect me to take care of her dog for her. Despite my requirement that both her pets be vet checked before moving into the house, they weren’t, and her dog had worms, and gave them to mine. She would invite friends with small kids over to my decidedly not child friendly house, and wonder why I got grumpy when they invited themselves into my room, harassed my rabbit and fed my dog stuff she isn’t allowed to have.
The last straw was the morning I had a cold shower, and panicked thinking the hot water heater died. No, it didn’t die, I just didn’t have any hot water because she started a load of laundry on hot while I was showering. When I called her on it she said “well how was I supposed to know?” I DON’T KNOW, COMMONG SENSE?
And then when I gave her an eviction notice, she waited until 2 days before to even start packing, and wasn’t out on time. She asked me for another day, and I told her anything not out of my house by the end of the day was going in the garbage, and I’d be billing her for the extra disposal fee.
I had this roommate who was dating a boy, and they shared the same name. It was all very confusing. I also lived in the living room at that time, as our apartment was rather small, no one wanted to share a bedroom, and there were three of us living in the space. So I come home one night to find her spit polishing Boy’s pole… on what was essentially my bed. So, I flopped down on the couch, turned on my Xbox, and started gaming. Gotta give Girl props, as she followed through to the end. At that point, both of them become aware that I’m sitting on the couch, playing video games and not paying them any mind. He asks me how long I’ve been there; I reply with “I showed up after “ah ah”, but before “AH! AH! Not so much teeth!””. Needless to say, I didn’t have to worry about walking in on that again. Also, for some reason, my roommate moved out hurriedly shortly after.
awesome!
OMG, my sister and I had this roommate who had those Precious Moment figurines and she had potpourri sachets on her bed and desk when we moved in. The place smelled like a funeral parlor. She even had wreaths with grape leaves…we went out of our way to kill every one of those stupid figurines and bury them in the potpourri.
Oh… the roommate stories I could tell.
My first college roommate was a habitual drunk. Every single weekend and some nights of the week she would get hog hammered drunk and stumble in at all hours of the night. I am decidedly a Type A non-drinker and had issues with her free use of spirits (vodka and beer were her favs). In addition to her multiple cases of alcohol poisoning, she insisted on going to sleep EVERY. SINGLE. EFFING. MADDENING. NIGHT. to “Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory”” (ala Gene Wilder). At FULL FUCKING VOLUME. EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT. I still can’t watch that movie. Well, rarely anyway.
After one particularly heinous vomiting session in our dorm bathroom, I called the RA and the Dorm Resident and reported her as having a drinking problem. 2 years later she thanked me. That was the first time she spoke civilly to me in 2 years.
In the meantime, I was moved to another room 5 floors above her. My new roommate was Micronesian and smelled like a coconut grove from her miles and miles of hair that required gallons and gallons of hair product to give it a sheen any wax floor would be jealous of. She literally left strands of hair on EVERYTHING. The shower floor was hazardous. I don’t think I ever let my bare feet touch the floor. Luckily, she didn’t like me and moved out very shortly after I moved in. YAY me!
The third roommate of that same year slept with my boyfriend of a year (that’s a lifetime in college Freshman world).
The next year, I moved into the honors dorms so I didn’t have a roommate. I decided that was the best decision I ever made.
I had one awful roommate after another in college… the first was 3 years younger (18) on exchange from Montana, wanted everyone to know she was a genius, ONLY studied in the middle of the night with a flood light on (I shit you not), and was having an affair back home with her 60+ professor for whom she’d created the nickname “Pablo” to keep his identity a secret. The next was a girl who IMd every nigth until 4 in the morning with the LOUDEST keyboard in history, her boyfriend was homosexual and yet they still dated, and then she was sent to a mental institution. Upon her return she brought back a guy she met in electric shock therapy, and I found him standing over me in the middle of the night. I moved out the next day in secret. The 3rd and final hellish roomie was a “princess”. I know this b/c her mommy told me so as I was hauling my stuff in. At that point I was working 40+ hours a week on top of classes and needed to hang my work clothes – and there were 3 closets. She took all 3 for her t shirts and track suits and would push my bed AGAINST the 3rd closet to block me from getting inside. I superglued my bed to the floor and reported her to fire safety. She moved out the next day, and i did a happy dance!
My roommate my freshman year was a junior. I was her 4th roommate. The first semester was fine. We weren’t the best of friends but we got along. Then the second semester I pissed her off so badly that she told me I couldn’t watch her TV. In our little box of a dorm room. How was I supposed to not watch her TV when she was? Stand in the corner? I still haven’t figured out how I managed to not kill her.
A resounding FUCK NO!! Family Circus and Precious Moments – they are the worst!
I only had roommates when i went to college in Mexico. They were a bunch of “fresa” girls (really yuppy, preppy, snobby, vomit-inducing) who went to university to study the degree “Mientras Me Caso” which literally means “While I Get Married”, but is understood to mean that they just went to Uni to find some unsuspecting schmuck they could get their claws into and get married so they could live it up as the housewife of someone who would fund whatever lifestyle it was they imagined for themselves. They literally joked that they were studying MMC!!
This attitude was both hilarious and revolting. Living in those dorms was a nightmare and I would escape as much as possible by getting really drunk and staying out all hours of the night with my “real, live” friends (not freakin stepford wife wannabes). I unfortunately took that escapism a *tad* too far and got sent to I don’t know what disciplinary hearing where we all agreed I should move out of the dorms and get my own place nearby.
College was *much* more fun after that. Not that the drinking or partying subsided any!! But at least I had a nice little pad for the after parties!! **lol**
PS. I never actually finished college when I was living in Mexico, I soon dropped out and studied “at the university of life” as my family so generously put it. I eventually went back in my early twenties to a college near DC (where part of my family was living at the time)… Turns out those fun times in Mexico were a little too fun to actually retain any information.
My mother in law is a Precious Moments collector. She recently had to get another hutch to properly display them all – thems a whole lot of moments of creepy preciousness to gaze at. I don’t even understand the idea of “collecting’ things of a certain theme, mainly because I’m a thrower awayer. Decorating your home? Fine. But when the decorations include a sad hobo clown that could come to life and suffocate you in the night … well, I’ll stick to knick knack free living, thankyouverymuch.
I lived in an apartment style dorm in college (I could only afford one year, so this is all from my Freshman year). For the most part, my roommates were fine. 6 girls, 3 bedrooms. Aside from the underlying constant judgement I felt over being the only one from a “broken home” (I went to school in Utah. Don’t get me started on “Utah Mormons”), I got along quite well with 4 of my 5 roommates. The only real issue with any of them was when the one girl got Mono. Instead of taking her home where she could take care of her, her mom came to stay with us. For a month. Where she camped out on the floor in that bedroom. Nothing cramps the style of a bunch of college girls like an infectious roommate and her 50-something mother.
But the worst was my bedroom roommate. She was a music major and was CONSTANTLY singing and thought she was better than the rest of us. We used to get together with the guys in the neighboring apartment to watch movies every weekend, and she never joined us because she’d rather be out with her friends (worked for us!). One night, she came home while we were all watching the movie in our living room with the lights off. She turned the lights on while passing through to the kitchen (the kitchen light switch was right next to the living room one, she totally could have left the living room lights off) and bellowed HEY KIDS!! I had classes starting at 7am three days a week and did my best to be silent in the morning when I got up, so I wouldn’t disturb her. The two days a week I got to sleep in a little, she would BLOW DRY her hair in our room while I was trying to sleep. She’s the only one of my roommates I have zero contact with on facebook now.
OMG. I must remember not to drink liquids when reading your posts so as to avoid spraying Diet Coke out through my nose. I started laughing at “she smelled like meat” and never stopped.
I, too, was assigned a complete opposite as my first college roommate. Tall/short, white/black, straight/gay, bandgeek/basketballplayer, smart/fuckingstupid … complete opposite. After the first week, when I had just begun to master the fine art of ebonics, he decided that he’d rather stay with the team at the “team house” (whatever the hell that was) and then I never saw him again. I did the five-year plan and in all that time I never once say the guy again.
Precious Moments SUCK.
I had 5 college roommates my freshman year, one of which is my closest friend still. A ballerina prom queen, a pro golf looking lesbian, Republican homecoming queen, a stoner hippy, a pill head black belt, and me (my label is always the jew, like I represent the whole religion to Southerners I meet or something. ) I think the weirdest experience was waking up from a nap to a hand drawn picture of me sleeping drawn by the lesbian. After that though the only complaints were dirty dishes, smoking in the dorm room, and too much partying … all of which I was guilty of and I ignored because it was college and life should be like animal house. I’m sure all my roommates have better stories to tell.
I had a roommate my Freshman year of college who, at first, I got along with pretty well. We went to frat parties together and both became “little sisters”. Well, she made the unwise decision of fooling around with one of the “brothers” and let him put PEACHES up her “you-know-what”! He then told all of his “brothers”. I was mortified for her, but was she upset? Hell NO! I came back from class one day and she had taped labels from cans of peaches on our door!! I think she was pretty proud of herself! Needless to say, I wasn’t sad when she left school after the first semester.
I moved out when I was 16. Too young to sign a lease, so roommates were a necessity. I have a lot of stories…but one? Is so bad, I think it trumps Precious Moments. Maybe not Family Circus, though.
Big house, 4 roommates. I had the entire basement, and a close male friend had the attic. Other roommate had a friend crash with us. This is what she did:
1) Wore my underwear. Without permission. My thong underwear. Went on long bike rides, in the summer, in my underwear. Then hid the dirty ones under my bed. More than once. They were so smelly, I couldn’t even wash them, I had to throw them out.
2) Slept in my bed while I was at work. She had no job. Naked. ON HER PERIOD. Again, evidence hidden under my bed.
3) Slept in my bed. Well, bounced on it, naked, with my male friend. Who had his own damn bed in the effing attic.
GAH.
That. Is. Disgusting.
How have I made it this far in life without ever hearing the words “crotch” and “parasite” together? I mean, when not talking about crabs?
I’m so glad I’ve never had a room mate. That sounds like a fucking nightmare.
My four years of college, I had a different roommate each fucking semester. My first roommate was 16, an over compensating uber-homeschooled Shakespearean snob. She thought that she was God’s gift to sopranos. Every fucking day she would sing shit from West Side Story.
The second roommate had just left a convent in Germany. I didn’t know that. So when my ex-boyfriend started stalking me 2 minutes after I returned to campus that January, screaming FUCK at the top of my lungs, she requested a change ASAP.
BTW Aunt Becky, you broke your own rule. You used ellipses which are my FAVORITE punctuation.
It’s been a long time. I am so out of the loop I even had to look up Family Circus cartoons. I don’t think I said more than 10 words to my first roommate. After the first semester we were allowed to choose. I moved in with a girl who like to car surf and sing Patricia the Stripper on the library steps at midnight and we never looked back.
My college roommate freshman year was so incredibly smart but refuse to go to class…or the dining hall….or anywhere…there were days that she only left the room to go to the bathroom…She would ask one of us to get her food from the dining hall and eat in our room. She would borrow notes from everyone for classes and study in our room. In 2 months, she left the room twice, once to go to a midterm and once to take a final. Her boyfriend was in prison and I started to think she was staying in the room to wait for his call…imagine my surprise when she told me in our second semester that she was pregnant! I said, “how the hell did that happen? You never leave the room!” She moved out 2 days later and I’ve never spoken to her again…it was soooo weird….
Do I ever. When I transferred to a small hippie school VT I was a late entry, so they jammed me into a tiny “triple” at the last minute with two freshmen. One was a pious good girl who literally did not leave our room on Sundays except for church. The other was an extremely OCD nutcase who guarded the bathroom after she pooped so no one could smell her poop odors. Meanwhile I was a 21 year old disorganized lush with a regular boyfriend and a major in art. Oh dear. Just LOOKING at my side of the room caused OCD Girl to frantically straighten her perfectly straightened desk. But what really irritated me about them both was that they were too snobby and holier-than-thou to ever have a single casual conversation with me… hey I didn’t want to live there either but was willing to make the best of it, and they constantly shunned me.
So I had this funky wind-up alarm clock that very softly ticked when it ran. I admit that I knew it was annoying, but I found my roommates annoying because they were too immature to just talk to me about ANYTHING so I passive aggressively kept the clock wound up and ticking all the time. One night I awoke to the sound of someone rummaging around in my stuff… it was OCD girl, holding the clock and searching for a place to hide it that would muffle the sound, presumably. This was her solution instead of just asking me to stop winding the clock, like a normal person. Luckily about halfway through the year they found me a better roommate.
My college roommate stole my bank card ( never used it) and other various things and just up and poof dissappered. With out word to anyone , not to her friends or the school or me. She just dropped out of school and ran away. She was a hippy dippy weirdo that thought Ice was a food group and reguarly burnt sage around the hallways of the dorm… that she claimed was haunted and had bad energy from all the partying going on..
Oh, you’ve brought back the pain and horrors of my freshman year roommate… Now I must go curl into a ball and rock softly back and forth. The first sign that my roommate “A” and I were not a good fit was when she admitted to me that she lied on her roommate match form (’cause her parents were going to see it, duh!). Turns out she played opposites with that sucker. I liked to run – turns out that while she wrote that she liked sports, her idea of exercise was pouring water into a bong. I was an early to bed, early to rise (which was possibly related to the engineering coursework which started at o-dark-hundred), she enjoyed inviting strangers, yes, strangers, home to “visit”. Oh, I could go on an on and on. Until February, when one of her besties “pretended” to cut my throat one night. Except we all know that pretend isn’t really pretend… That night, I slept in the Campus Chapel, on a pew (which is saying a LOT, because I was pretty much anti- religion at that point). And the next day, I moved out. And then housing yelled at me for moving out without permission. Oh, the good old days. Wow. I apparently still have a lot of rage penned up on this one. Maybe I need to share with BBT.
My first college roommate was actualy TWO roommates. They jammed three of us into a tiny, tiny, tiny two-person room. They were both kind of lame so as soon as a room opened up down the hall, I moved. Bad idea. My new roommate was mentally about 75 year old AND she was a virgin. (Hell, she probably still is!) She didn’t swear or drink or sleep around or any of the other fun things you’re supposed to do in college. And she left her dirty dishes under her bed until they would start to smell up the room. For fun, we used to tear pages out of porno mags and stick them in all of her drawers between her clothes and whatnot so she’d get a fun surprise every now and then. I’m pretty sure she never saw a penis before that.
The roommate lottery is a scary scary thing. I went to Loyola New Orleans and luckily avoided it by rooming with a friend. Although she was still a bit more Type A than me. I wonder if she knows you’re now Aunt Becky, I bet she’d join The Band and have lots of post to write about rooming with you! 😉
Maybe proper color coding isn’t a valuable investment of time if you’re color blind… 😉
Dear Aunt Becky,
I can’t email you because my computer won’t allow me and goes to your FB page when I try emailing you. I’m not allowed to have FB I’m contacting you to tell you that I got mono and my spleen was enlarged. i was stuck in bed with no visitors because regular university students won’t be friends with 16-year-old university students. I was very lonely and depreseed.
My spleen enlarged to the point that it was in danger of rupturing if i rolled over on it wrong during my sleep, so it was removed. I’m getting better. People are visiting me occasionally.
i tried to send this info to you on a blog response but it was deleted because it was off-topic or something like that, but I had no other way of contacting you. This one may be deleted for being off-topic as well. At least I tried,
Your niece, Alexis
Oh, lord, roommates. When I went away to school, I didn’t think it would be too bad – the dorms were set up with 2 people to a room, and 2 rooms in a suite, separated by a bathroom. That can’t be too awful, right? Except there was a bit of a housing shortage, and they started plugging in the extra freshmen as the 5th & 6th people. It still wasn’t bad, unless you were the last minute addition to a suite full of people that were already good friends, making you the odd man out.
Which could be really awkward if you were the last minute addition to a suite full of girls that knew each other from church, and that had decided to room together to avoid sin. Oh, yeah. I found myself rooming with a group of hard-core, uber religious RLDS. I managed to offend them in less than 3 minutes when I asked if RLDS was like Mormon. I paid for that error for days.
I committed roughly a million sins every day, and got to hear about all of them while they were encouraging me to (a) repent, and (b) convert. I finally got them to give up at Halloween, when they invited me to the Halloween party at church. (Yeah, I would’ve thought pagan, but they informed me that they were ‘redeeming’ the holiday. Whatever.) After being pestered for two weeks, I finally told them that I had another party that I was going to, but if they really wanted, and didn’t mind that I’d be in the costume I was wearing to that party, that I’d meet them at their party.
You know, if they’d had any sense, it might have occurred to them to worry about the possible outcome. Or to have at least asked about my costume beforehand. Hey, I thought I made a very classy hooker. Black fishnet stockings, red satin short-shorts, see-through white blouse unbuttoned down the there with a black bra underneath, and of course, the high heel fuck-me platforms.
Oddly enough, they never invited me back to church again…
My first roommate freshman year was a junior. I thought I was so lucky to have a cool, older, alternative roommate until she condescendingly explained to me who Trent Reznor was – she had posters of him. Ironically, I listened to much of the same music as her, I just tended to dress more mainstream. About 2 weeks into the semester, she disappeared for a month. I was getting calls from housing, her mom, and places where she had applied for jobs loolking for her. She showed up one afternoon, packed up her shit, and moved back NYC where she had eloped.
I became close (or so I thought) friends with a girl on my hall, so second semester one of her friends in a bad roommate situation moved in with me. It was great for the first few weeks until they decided they didn’t like me anymore. They spent a lot of time in our room and would talk about all their weekend partying plans together – in front of me. I got a letter during the summer from the former friend explaining that she was friends with the other girl first and that’s why she couldn’t be friends with me, too. I guess we were still in middle school?
The absolute worst was later. I was housemates with a girl who probably suffered from Borderline Personality Disorder with some rage issues and binge drinking thrown in. She would drink to the point of blacking out and do crazy shit. One night she bit my boyfriend hard enough to leave a bruise and collapsed in the driveway.
We had the misfortune of her hooking up with an acquaintance of my boyfriend and when that relationship crashed, she blamed us. She and I could be having a benign conversation, I’d say something that she would misinterpret, and she’d start screaming at me and throwing things. Later she’d give me an “I guess I’m sorry” bullshit apology and try to make up by taking me out to dinner. After the second or third time, I realized things weren’t going to change. She also loved to create and spread malicious gossip, yet was constantly paranoid that people were talking about her.
When I finished school and moved out, she got all paranoid about the bills and wanted everything switched into her name before I left. Then she was convinced I was going to screw her on the bills and had another yelling fit. She blocked me from our home voicemail as punishment. I purposely didn’t leave her my new address, but a couple of weeks after I moved, I received a letter at work threatening legal action over money she claimed I owed her for bills. I wrote back reminding her that I had paid my share of the utilities when they were switched out of my name and I had left her an extra $100 to cover anything I extra. That was the end of it.
I had two room mates and it took the two of us a while to realize how much the third sucked. Mostly because the other room mate and I grew up doing our chores or ELSE so it took a while to realize we were doing everything while the princess just sat on the couch watching Golden Girls. However IT WAS TRULY ON when she played Phantom of the Opera in my cd player. Oh helllll no. Take that shit AWAY. She also liked Les Miserables. So basically I wanted to stab her. She never cleaned and she actually whined till her Mom did her her research papers for her. She was a big, whiny, titty baby. Sooooo we drove her out of the apartment and since she was locked into the lease, she still had to pay for a whole semester of rent.
My freshman college roomate’s father was a readio announder. On the morning of her first time, she awoke to the radio sound of “This is ….” HER DAD. No big surprise when she got married real quIck and I got a new roommate. This was 1974; these days she’d probably call in with all the details.