{"id":131,"date":"2008-10-07T13:24:48","date_gmt":"2008-10-07T18:24:48","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blindwino.cyberphreak.com\/?page_id=131"},"modified":"2008-10-07T13:24:48","modified_gmt":"2008-10-07T18:24:48","slug":"roommates-identifying-the-species","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/blindwino.cyberphreak.com\/?page_id=131","title":{"rendered":"Roommates: Identifying the Species"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\">Roommates: Identifying the Species <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\">Let&#8217;s face it, living with other people sucks. Other people&#8217;s filth,  other people&#8217;s clothes, other people&#8217;s friends, and other people&#8217;s food  in the refrigerator. Unfortunately the economic realities of most of us  keep that constant, unwanted companion across the hall. I, like most  people, have had my fair share of roommates, most of them good, some of  them bad, a few of them unbearable, but I can&#8217;t exactly say that I&#8217;m a  joy to live with either (put me somewhere in-between The Slob and The  Sketcher). But, in my ever vigilant attempt to elevate the human race  past the status of dung beetle, I have set forth a classification system  of roommates to help identify possible trouble spots and keep life moving  smoothly. While I may have not nailed everyone, I think I got most of you  bastards. Feel free to <a href=\"mailto:driver@biggun.com\">mail me<\/a> with  anyone I might have left out. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Athlete<\/strong><br \/>\nThe Athlete lives to exercise. Jogging, rollerblading, gym membership,  and intramural sports are dead giveaways to this species. Often assumes  that hours spent at rowing machine somehow translates into life  experience that boosts them above people of normal activity level. If you  can handle jabs to your undefined pectorals and constant nagging requests  to accompany them on their path to self-betterment, you should do just fine. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Neat Freak<\/strong><br \/>\nThe Neat Freak demands a sense of order and cleanliness above and beyond  the call to sanity. Spends most free time dusting, polishing silverware,  and talking about you behind your back to her other neat friends. Usually  in bed before 11:00 and up around 6:00, The Neat Freak can be a constant  source of entertaining anecdotes, and can be baited into insanity  embarrassingly easily with used condoms and misplaced chicken bones. The  Neat Freak should live alone, so approach with caution. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Schizophrenic Cleaner<\/strong><br \/>\nNot to be confused with the Neat Freak, The Schizophrenic Cleaner is a  slob 90% of the time, but during that other 10% (usually on Sunday  afternoons), the Schizophrenic Cleaner becomes the most unbearable  roommate known to science and attempts to clean two months of filth in  two hours. Often this is accompanied by scathing diatribes against all  other roommates in the house whose only crimes are that they aren&#8217;t  overcome by sanitary mania at the exact same time. This attribute is  common to many other species. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Dealer<\/strong><br \/>\nPros: Pays the rent, has a nice TV with matching Playstation, and has  plenty of drugs. Cons: Sketchy people stopping by at 3 in the morning,  bullets coming through the window, and the occasional police raid. The  Dealer is usually a nice enough person, and as long as their trade isn&#8217;t  much more than pot and shrooms (with the occasional shipment of coke) you  should be OK, especially if you live in a college town. Avoid sharing a  bedroom, as it sucks to spend 5 to 20 in lock-up when someone else is  making the bucks. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Professional<\/strong><br \/>\nThe Professional is in their mid 20&#8217;s going on late 50&#8217;s, and a good  roommate for no other reason than the fact that they&#8217;re never home. Back  from work late, out of bed early, the only time you might cross paths is  on the weekend, when they&#8217;re usually busy trying to make up for not  having a life by drinking hard, doing laundry, and paying the bills. The  Professional is an especially good roommate if you have a bullshit job,  because it lets you justify your lack of cash with &#8216;at least I&#8217;m not  him.&#8217; <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Stoner<\/strong><br \/>\nSay goodbye to the couch, because once The Stoner moves it, you&#8217;re never  gonna be able to sit on it again. The Stoner is the opposite of The  Professional; where The Professional is never home, The Stoner never  leaves, living out an entire existence between the TV, the bathroom, and  the front door to get the daily pizza delivery. Be especially careful of  The Social Stoner, who will have lots of boring stoner friends come over  never leave your house either except to visit The Dealer, when they  become uncharacteristically mobile. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Vegan<\/strong><br \/>\nPerhaps the most entertaining of all roommates is The Vegan. If The Vegan  has a good sense of humor, a lively rapport with plenty of good fun  thrown both ways can be established. &#8220;Hey, how can you live on twigs and  leaves?&#8221; answered by The Vegan with phrases like &#8220;hey, I saw a cute dog  running around outside, why don&#8217;t you chase it down and barbecue it?&#8221; On  the other hand, if The Vegan is completely without humor, treats a diet  like a religion, and constantly preaches at you, your house becomes more  repressive than a 24-hour Southern Baptist church, and you should move in  with someone less dogmatic, like a member of the IRA. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Mystic Spiritualist<\/strong><br \/>\nThe Spiritualist knows something that you don&#8217;t. The Spiritualist  understands the world, the planets, the universe, and what you&#8217;re doing  wrong. Not quite a hippy or a stoner, The Spiritualist lines her room  with books of Eastern philosophy (which she diligently skims once before  forever resting on her bookshelf), hangs Indian printed cloths from the  ceiling, and burns incense constantly. The Spiritualist assumes she is  wise simply because she aligns herself with something other than the  Western world, and will decry Western thinking with a Marlboro in one  hand and a bottle of Jagrmeister in the other. Be prepared to smile and  nod a lot, and have a plan to dispose of the body when you snap and  strangle her. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Loner<\/strong><br \/>\nNo one knows what The Loner does, and it&#8217;s probably for the best. If The  Loner could afford to live by himself, he would. The fact that he can&#8217;t  is bad news for you. On the surface, a relationship with The Loner is  great. He stays in his room, he doesn&#8217;t talk to you, and he even  schedules his daily activities so he doesn&#8217;t have to interact with you.  Bad news is this guy probably has a 9mm collection and has already dug a  shallow grave with your name on it. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The New Alcoholic<\/strong><br \/>\nThe years of living in a repressive family situation are suddenly over  when The New Alcoholic leaves home. Yes, it&#8217;s time to break loose and go  crazy, and what better way to exercise command over your life than to  stay stinking drunk all the time? Sports bars, happy hours, Long Island  Ice Tea Night, whatever &#8211; there&#8217;s always an excuse to drink! Expect late  night &#8216;come pick me up&#8217; phone calls, 3am &#8216;Wooooo!&#8217;s, bar detritus of the  opposite sex spending the night, and the occasional renting of a carpet  shampooer to clean all the puke stains. While initially a lot of fun, the  New Alcoholic suffers under the delusion that it&#8217;s necessary to drink  after 3:30 in the morning, and thus loses and initial charm. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Leech<\/strong><br \/>\nThe Leech doesn&#8217;t really like you, she just doesn&#8217;t have anything to do  herself, and will therefore follow you wherever you go, and make fun of  it. The Leech hears you are going to a move and invites herself along,  talking loudly about how stupid the movie is. The Leech hears you are  going to a party and follows you there, ripping on the house, the drinks,  and how much cooler the people are in the city where she grew up. It  never really dawns on The Leech that the reason she has nothing going on  for herself is that she sucks to hang out with, and she probably doesn&#8217;t  care, she&#8217;s too busy making fun of your date, your clothes, your teeth,  and your hair. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Borrower<\/strong><br \/>\nWhile not exactly poor, The Borrower never really seems to buy anything  for himself. It would seem he is unaware that items such as toothpaste,  shampoo, coffee, and sweatshirts are actually available for purchase at  various stores, which he could probably borrow your car to visit. To The  Borrower, nothing is off limits for borrowing, including prescription  medicine, underwear, Chapstick, or toothbrushes. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Cheapskate<\/strong><br \/>\nPaying bills is stressful no matter how close you are with your roommate,  and The Cheapskate doesn&#8217;t make it any easier. Expect to hear phrases  like &#8220;You&#8217;re home more often than I am, so you should pay more of the  heating bill&#8221; and &#8220;Can I have 35 cents for that cream cheese you took  from me this morning?&#8221; And don&#8217;t ever lend money to The Cheapskate,  because you&#8217;ll never get it back. Instead, you&#8217;ll be reminded of the ride  to the airport they gave you in Spring of 1995, the time you called the  house collect, or how your sister used a bunch of water when she visited. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Copy Cat<\/strong><br \/>\nThe Copy Cat respects you and your ways, so much, in fact, that she will  slowly become you over the months of living together. First it&#8217;s the  clothes, and then the hair. Pretty soon it&#8217;s the music, the way you talk,  your friends, your eating habits, every aspect of your personality.  Flattering for about 10 minutes, annoying forever, if The Copy Cat is not  cut off right away, she will end up living across the street from your  eventual family. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Sketcher<\/strong><br \/>\nThe Sketcher seems nice enough, but you never really trust him. He&#8217;s the  kind of person to steal your beer and hit on your girlfriend, yet still  occasionally do something nice, like pick you up during a rainstorm, and  make it hard to 100% hate him. Usually possessing a decent sense of humor  and generally cool, The Sketcher is most likely to borrow half your  wardrobe and move across the country, sticking you with the lease and a  $400 phone bill. The Sketcher isn&#8217;t really a bad person, just one who is  totally out for himself, which rarely bodes well for you. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Piece of Shit<\/strong><br \/>\nYou know the Piece of Shit, she&#8217;s the one you let move in as a favor to a  friend. She does stolen cocaine on your coffee table, needs to get picked  up from fucked up places at 4 in the morning, steals your shit, and has a  parade of Piece of Shit friends who also enjoy rifling through your shit.  She runs up phone bills, drinks everything in the house, makes a mess,  doesn&#8217;t pay rent, and bitches about everything else. Get her arrested as  soon as possible, and for God&#8217;s sake, don&#8217;t ever sleep with her, you&#8217;ll  never get rid of her then. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Dresser Bible<\/strong><br \/>\nThe Dresser Bible seems totally normal. He is responsible, well mannered,  neat, and always in generally good spirits. You may actually start to  like the guy. And then, after a few months, it happens &#8211; he busts out the  Bible he keeps in the top drawer of his dresser and begins to start his  sentences with words like &#8220;You know what Jesus says&#8221;. Your friendship  suddenly becomes a truce, as he promises to keep the Good News to a  minimum, and you agree to stop slaughtering goats in the living room. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Touchy Feely<\/strong><br \/>\nThe Touchy Feely is the nicest person you&#8217;ll ever meet. She&#8217;ll always  have an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, and be a friend to depend  on. She&#8217;ll make you a healthy vegetarian dinner and give you a friendly  back massage afterward. She&#8217;ll always smile, let you borrow anything, and  doesn&#8217;t mind cleaning the entire house daily. She takes detailed phone  messages, is nice to all your friends, and feeds your cat while you&#8217;re on  vacation. None of this changes the fact that she&#8217;s creepier than a  bathroom stall at a NAMBLA meeting. Beware of someone who never stops  smiling. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Poor Guy<\/strong><br \/>\nThe Poor Guy means well, but he&#8217;s, well, poor. More likely he&#8217;s just  really bad with money, spending his meager paychecks on dope and good  beer, crippling his budget for the rest of the month. The Poor Guy rarely  leaves home, because he can&#8217;t afford to. The Poor Guy usually has very  good puppy dog eyes, and is rarely expected to chip in on generic  household expenses like toilet paper, dish soap, and the electric bill.  The Poor Guy doesn&#8217;t mind sleeping on the couch for a reduction in rent,  will follow you to any subsequent apartments, and isn&#8217;t above taking  handouts. Nothing like having your own, personal panhandler. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> Squeaky Clean<\/strong><br \/>\nSqueaky Clean lives in a general state of bemused shock, shock mostly  aimed at you. Squeaky Clean lives a life that is beyond reproach, and  won&#8217;t hesitate to smilingly comment about your drinking habits, your  cleanliness, your table manners, your choice of dates, your music, your  friends, and anything else that is slightly off the Squeaky Clean Path.  Squeaky Clean has fallen under the misbelief that there is one correct  and proper way to go through life, their way, and attacks whatever  doesn&#8217;t support their generally dull and uneventful lifestyle. They do,  however, always pay their share of the rent. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> The Slob<\/strong><br \/>\nAnyone seen my leftover pizza? Oh, there it is, underneath your jacket.  I&#8217;ve been meaning to clean those steak bones out of the sink. Damn, is  that my underwear? You guys have any idea how to get the smell of rotten  milk out of shoes? I&#8217;m sorry my dog shit on your bed, I&#8217;ll clean it up  after I fix the shower drain I clogged while shaving last week. Wow, this  beer has been open for a week and it still tastes good. If you wear a  shirt long enough, the stains go away by themselves. Sound familiar? <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong> Daddy&#8217;s Favorite<\/strong><br \/>\nYes, there is something wrong with giving your kids too much attention,  they become unbearable for the rest of us to deal with. Always well  bankrolled, Daddy&#8217;s Favorite expects to take the place of Most Important  in your house, just like they had it growing up. The good news is if any  problems arise with your residence, Daddy is just a phone call away and  ready to save his little angel. The bad news is you have to deal with  this little brat all the rest of the time. Daddy&#8217;s Favorite has little  concept of money, as unseen hands have always paid all the bills. This  means Daddy&#8217;s Favorite will assume you&#8217;ll take care of them to a certain  extent, even though you have 1\/10 the money. Expect visits from parents  at least once a month. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\"><strong>The Player<\/strong><br \/>\nThe good news is you&#8217;ll meet a lot of eligible lovers, the bad news is  they&#8217;ll all be the used goods of your roommate. While The Player thinks  he&#8217;s racking up the stud points, you&#8217;ll be sitting through the same dumb  stories, the same cheezy lines, and the same ritual of sexual conquest  that screams desperation at volumes hyper-audible to everyone but the  dumbest deaf. Don&#8217;t even try to learn the name of the Flavor-of-the-Hour  because it doesn&#8217;t matter. Buy some anti-bacterial Lysol for the  bathroom, keep your toothbrush, bath towels, and razor locked in your  room, maintain a strict &#8216;no drinking out of the container&#8217; rule, and  lastly, buy some earplugs to drown out the unnecessarily loud pathetic  fucking grunts. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: helvetica,ariel;\">Like I said, this list is for the generations to come, so <a href=\"mailto:driver@biggun.com\">let me know<\/a> if I left you out. Give me  reasons why you suck as a roommate, a) so I can complete my list of bad  people and b) so I never accidentally move in with you. <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Roommates: Identifying the Species Let&#8217;s face it, living with other people sucks. Other people&#8217;s filth, other people&#8217;s clothes, other people&#8217;s friends, and other people&#8217;s food in the refrigerator. Unfortunately the economic realities of most of us keep that constant, unwanted companion across the hall. I, like most people, have had my fair share of roommates, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":61,"menu_order":6,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-131","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/blindwino.cyberphreak.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/131","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/blindwino.cyberphreak.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/blindwino.cyberphreak.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blindwino.cyberphreak.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blindwino.cyberphreak.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=131"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/blindwino.cyberphreak.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/131\/revisions"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blindwino.cyberphreak.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/61"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/blindwino.cyberphreak.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=131"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}