Housemate problems - what do I do?

bemoans "unusable" house.

posts pics of some neatly stacked bottles, a few dishes in the sink and some fucking naan bread in the garden.

Won't someone think of the sparrows' cholestorol?

plus I feel bad for the neighbours having to see discarded naan bread out of their windows on Xmas/boxing day...

I'd be naan too pleased if I were you.

Bob Dylan was right, the times they are a changin'.

You, my little Fauntleroy, need to put some lead in your fucking pencil and not spend Christmas Day weeping over a kitchen in the very mildest disarray.

Even if your housemate is a cunt-and the jury is out on that one-at least he's fucking socialised to the point he can have a dinner party and not leave the place looking like a group of sailors just got ashore after nine months at sea eating nothing but seagull and decided to gangfuck every dish off of every takeaway menu in the city. If you're so put out over that I'd say you've had a very sheltered life of flatshares. Try coming home to your flatmate flailing naked in three regurgitated bottles of £2.50 Montepulciano and a quesadilla at the bottom of your stairs.

Three pages of virtual scorn have now been dedicated to an unwashed lasagne dish. That's plenty.

.

Now we're talking. That photo brings back powerful, pungent memories. I lived in that flavor of squalor for the winter of 2007, in a house of "DJs" (read: cunts). Guys who knew how to party but treated the house with a celebrated level of apathetic abandon, because putting, say, a beer can in a bin would ruin their delusion of living in pure, reckless hedonism. Thus grew a vile sea of pizza boxes, beer cans, fag ends, bottles, cans, kebab boxes. The smell hit you on the face when you opened the door. A family of mice flourished. I remember, in a vain attempt to get my security deposit back, a naive attempt at cleaning away the impossible - filling like twelve bin bags with detritus from just the living room. That effort reduced the greasy tide from shin-deep down to sub-ankle-deep with some thrilling glimpses of carpet, but in the end we all kissed that deposit good bye and the house was probably featured on A Life Of Grime with pro cleaners muffling "bloody students" through their haz-suits.

Pffft. Tell him he owes you a curry and a beer for the 15mins you spent clearing up.

If there’s resistance you’re free to smother him in his sleep with an old garlic garden-naan.

This. Just put some loud music on and tidy it up in under an hour, easy. Leave the garden. Shit on his bed. Done.

Also mock him for what was clearly a shit party.

Budweiser? Clearly a cunt. Shove him up against a wall and have a stern word.

Let the rest of the housemates know what he's done and make it a hostile environment for him.

He's obviously thought 'fuck it' after getting sick of having to clean up everyone else's mess for the last year. He's hardly burned the place down, those photos are hilariously tame.

Clean it up, sit down with him when you're all back, apologise for being shit the rest of the year, make some mutual promises about everyone being more considerate in 2018, and move on.

#rep

This is a parody thread isn't it?

He even put the bottles neatly on the counter! 😂

Reminds me of this:

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Fuck the mess (or lack thereof), the fact he/they were drinking Budweiser should be enough to make you have a word with yourself and sort your life out.

Pull the fuse for the power to his room then padlock the fuse cupboard shut, warn the others you are doing it and tell them to be busy/ignore him for a day then pop the fuse back in while he is out and act like nothing ever happened.

A housemate of mine threw a party a few days before Christmas and didn't clean up the extensive mess left behind

Next time he wants to have a party, tell him he can have it in my flat. If he leaves it in that state, he'll have saved me some tidying and cleaning.

The horror of the unwashed lasagna dish.

So a crate of Budweiser (brewed in Mortlake) and a coupe of bottles of wine.

Was it a dinner party?

This seems like the place to recount that in my post-student hovel, we once threw a dinner party featuring lasagna cooked in a dish which had previously been in service as a cat litter tray.

Not only that, but after a few glasses, I revealed this fact mid-serving. And I was trying to romance one of the guests.

Silver tongued devil.

You could at least have told them that it was Garfield's litter tray, maybe they would have understood.

Is there a just giving page yet to fund a dishwasher?

Ha.

Wanna party with OP's housemate.

#madlads

Cleaner would be a better bet.

Regardless of whether or not your housemate is a cunt (which I'm guessing you think they are if you've made a thread about it), that's less than an hour's work to sort out. Making a big deal about will surely make your home life awkward and unpleasant. If it were me, I'd tidy up very angrily (but quite quietly) and then ask them not to do it again, for the sake of an easier life in the long run.