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Paradox said:My exwife and I divorced over a year ago. We still share the same house (separate rooms for years). Her mom lives here too, moved in years ago with her stepdad (who promptly took off and left us stuck with this annoying, disgusting...woman). Her morbidly obese wheelchair confined mom. Who showers maybe once a month. Who has a plastic toilet in her room that she has to periodically dump into a real toilet (meaning carry a bucket of piss and shit down the hall past my room to the other bathroom). Who parks herself at the kitchen table for half the day with no regard to how how high her shirt or shorts is hiked up over her globs and globs of fat. Who brought her four fucking rat terrier dogs with her (I fucking hate small dogs and have managed to do away with two of them so far.) Who loves to talk and (shudder) sing at the top off her tone deaf voice.
She makes this house smell like a fucking construction site urinal non-stop. Incense and air fresheners are my best friends. This is on top of the awkwardness of sharing a house with my ex-wife. I can't wait to move out in the next couple of months. Probably out of Texas completely to be near family in Tennessee.
Fuck a doodle doo.
Wowow, what the fuck?! Time to get the hell out of dodge!
I don't have too many stories to share, except once in college I came home with a girl and had to walk through my roommate's room (railroad style apartment) to get to mine. Well I was so drunk I accidentally shattered her standing mirror. When I got to my room I put on music, but it was apparently so loud that it forced my roommate to come into my room while I was in the act. I still remember her standing in the doorway, asking for me to lower the music, with a piece of shattered mirror hanging on her nightgown.
Looking back at it, I may not have been the best roommate.