Response to "Things I hate about my flatmate" blog

As the years pass i look back fondly to an age of squats and strange habitats i have known - places where i roosted, dwelt, lurked, hid or hibernated (between giros and script days) rather than lived. Better called earths, dens, holts, forms, nests, lairs, burrows, castles(octopus), caves or hide-outs or simply "addresses" (if the sole purpose was to receive housing benefit or other assorted hand-outs)rather than homes. looking back through rose tinted spectacles to those halcyon days and the strange inhabitants thereof recalls the following -

A number of years ago i discovered my flatmate washing a colander he'd previously used to sieve turds and "clumps"out of the cat litter tray alongside the cutlery and crockery from supper while simultaneously pissing in the sink down the gap at the side of the bowl (which,incidentally, was clothed in a dense patina of chipfat enhanced by the lukewarm water he insisted on using). When i gently drew his attention to the dubious hygiene of these practices while commending him for efficient multi-tasking he upbraided me for "shaming" him and called me a fascist. Eventually we parted ways after a dispute over communal methadone.In short,i got a script and he didn't and the resultant power difference led to incompatibility. Keep writing - its zeitgeist-tastic