Turning Lamebos Into Rainbows

Rambling Goat and Nonsense Unicorn present… The Awesome Person's Guide to Life


Roommates: fucks sake not again

Shit hit the fan last night at around 12:40am on a work night.  You’d think that I would have learnt my lesson from the last time that roommates just don’t work in my home. I’m just not made for cohabitation, especially not with gronks anyway.

Back story: for the past four months or so one of Boy’s friends, let’s call him Gronk,  has been living with us. First it started to help him out with a break up, but it’s somehow turned into a seemingly more permanent arrangement...

So last night Boy and Gronk go to the pub for what was meant to be just a couple of drinks, and then turned into late night karaoke. It was organised that they would bring back dinner at 8:30 once I finished my uni class, but I get a text saying they’re going to stay out (even though Boy starts work at 630am and struggles more than me with mornings).

So already I’m hangry from that and decide to go to bed. Strike one.

After a few hours of not being able to sleep, at 12:40am I hear the front door open and hear four voices. What the? The noise then proceeds to our courtyard and I can hear bogan banter, beers and bad singing.

Urge to kill rising.

I go downstairs and the straw on my back snaps. Some old dero bogan man and beanie wearing cunt nugget bitch are sitting on the rabbit cage with beers with Boy and our room mate. At 12:40am on a work night. Oh hell no.

“What the fuck is this? Yeah no this is not happening, get the fuck out of my house”.

Cunt nugget bitch pipes up, “uh no, that’s for him (points to Gronk roommate) to decide”. Gronk roommate who is a guest in our house, has the final say in whether it’s cool that our place turns into a late night party haven and public menac to our neighbours.

Now let me point out that it has been explicitly discussed my expectations and needs for our place. I don’t care if you go out, you don’t bring it back to the house. It’s important for home to be a sanctuary for my mental health. 

By instead they bring strangers into the home that I have built with Boy for years, and somehow turn me into a stranger in my own fuckng house.

I cracked it at Boy. I told him I’m fucking done with this kind of bullshit and I’m leaving. I told him have fun being single with his fuckface Gronk friend. I’m going to my parents house.

He was drunk, rambled about how yeah he fucked up once and I’m a psycho. I told him it’s not this once, too many times similar to this over months and years and this is the straw that broke the camels back.

He doesn’t have my back. He can’t put himself into my shoes. It’s just about what he wants to do and have fun, and I always have to just suck it up and deal with what he wants, otherwise I’m the bitch.

I left and went to my parents house.

I guess we are broken up now. I’m not talking to him today as I’m still angry and upset. I can’t go back right now to get stuff either as I will probably smash Gronk roommates guitar in his face.

I guess this is the end.

Nonsense unicorn



Wiping the shit off the floor

Things didn’t go as disastrously as I anticipated on Sunday after shit hit the fan with our ex-roommates.  That’s not to say there were rainbows shining out of my ass – oh no,  all day it felt like my heart was hammering through my ribcage with a rusted pick axe, I was that anxious.  I felt like my soul swung between either extreme rage or extreme tears,  no middle ground.  Suffice to say,  I think I did an okay job at pretending I was okay.

Of course,  I did what any socially anxious person who has been vindicated and burned would do and ignored the stupid bitch all day.  In hindsight,  I wish I could have been strong enough to stand up and talk to her and burn her with my resolve, but alas the pain was (is) still too raw and the only way I could disguise my tears was to give her my back.

The worse that happened all day was a general air of silent awkwardness – I was the pink elephant in the room that everyone was trying to pretend was not there.  Plastic smiles and vapid hellos,  failed secret death stares from the Boy’s youngest sibling who “I have apparently (due to the bitchfaces lies)” hurt.  Which,  to be honest,  I can’t hold against her for doing.  If I thought someone called me a c$%^ I would probably do the same,  so it’s not her fault that she would feel a certain sense of animosity towards me.

Unfortunately,  due to my integrity I will not stoop to Bitchface’s level and play tit for tat with the facts.  I will sit back and hope that time will heal the damage her viperous tongue has caused without stooping to her level.

So that was that.  When we drove away I felt a certain sense of relief knowing that I survived that.

The boy saw his brother (Bitchface’s boyfriend and also ex-roommate) the next day.  His brother told him that he has absolutely no idea what has happened and that him and bitchface don’t know what went wrong.

You see,  he was in the shower when the altercation happened,  and it’s evident that she has also fed him lies on what has happened.  The boy told him about Bitchface barging into my door and abusing me,  to which he denied as being “out of her character”.  Sadly,  it looks like he is foolishly blinded by her succubus ways.

What?  You cannot be serious that they don’t know what happened?  THEY FUCKING STARTED THE WHOLE THING.  And are actually believing her lies.

She’s either a manipulative immature bitch or a stupid bitch.  Or more likely,  a combination of them both because it is pretty damn obvious who is in the wrong here.

But again,  rather than get angry,  I will let time do it’s thing and heal the pain until I can be strong enough the accept that she will never learn,  you cannot force people to observe their own folly,  and I will never get an apology for what happened.  As hard as it is to not confront her about all she is done – this is my life lesson I will learn in humility.

In the mean time,  I will just revel in fantasies of her being ran over by a train full of rabbid lemurs.

Moral of the Story:  people usually make their own bed and will get their comeuppance in this life.  As tempting as it is to try and expedite the process,  let the universe due the talking and move on with your life!  Assholes will be assholes,  that doesn’t mean you have to become one too.

(ps:  Yeah I totally deleted her off facebook – TAKE THAT!)

Nonsense Unicorn


Roommates: Not Even Once

For almost a month the Boy and I have had the DISpleasure of having his brother and partner stay with us in the interim of them moving from interstate.  Before they arrived,  many sources told me, “this will not end well”,  but I thought really, what could go wrong?  We have plenty of space here,  it’ll be fine!


Oh,  so very very wrong.

Now I’ve lived with roommates before (which actually,  didn’t end well either – what was I thinking this time?!) – but I thought they are family,  they would be different to living with random slobs.  Nope – family can be just as bad (even worse).  And atleast when I was living with the randoms they were PAYING rent – these family members were getting a free ride out of the goodness of our little hearts.

Really makes the term “common decency” the most ironic term if there ever was one.

So,  for you clueless slobs out there who may need to live at someone else’s house for a while – here are some tips on how to NOT be a terrible roommate.


Wanna sit outside and smoke like a chimney on our brand new wooden outdoor setting?  That’s fine,  but clean up your dirty fucking ashes off the surface before it stains!  We are not rich people,  so we take very good care of all our furniture and stuff because we can’t afford to buy more!  So give our stuff the same respect!

This killed me – constantly finding dirty shit lying around everywhere.  It’s really disrespectful.  Remember – this isn’t your house and it isn’t a hotel – have some forethought for the people you are staying with before you start to sloth around.


I know this can sound pretty strict,  but let me explain.  We are not clean freak nazis,  but we are definitely not slobs.  Hey,  we may not do the dishes straight away,  but when we don’t we rinse all the dishes and stack them neatly until we are ready.  

If that’s how we roll,  you roll the same way.  OR BETTER.  If I tell you it’s not cool to leave the kitchen looking like a bomb hit it,  then you apologise and comply.  (This is exactly what happened,  and I will write another blog about manipulative immature people regarding this).

If we only do washing loads when they are full,  then it’s not okay for you to put a 4 hour wash on for 4 pieces of clothing.  Water is freakin expensive!  Again,  we are not a freaking washing machine and can’t afford to pay for your frivolous behaviour.


Did I mention that we are not a hotel?  You are living here, so contribute to maintaining the house.  We are not your slaves who invited you here because we love cleaning up after you. (If I wanted to clean up after a grub I would have had a kid by now).

Wash the dishes.  Vacuum.  Wipe down the tables.  Don’t sit there on your phones surrounded in your own filth while I am literally scrubbing your shit out of the toilet.

ESPECIALLY IF YOU’RE STAYING FOR FREE.  I don’t get it.  Even when I stay at someone’s place just for a holiday,  I clean the room I stay in,  offer to wash the dishes or cook or DO SOMETHING to give back for their hospitality.  How can people be so deluded and selfish not to even think, “What can we do for Boy and NU to help them while we are here?”

And THAT,  you stupid immature child,  is why you’re a freeloader.  Even if you were paying,  no amount of money can pay for respect and decency for your hosts.  And I’m not asking you to be a slave – I’m asking you to contribute as much as I am.  Doing the dishes once in a month does not constitute “pulling your weight”.



I set up their room so they had everything they need – I even set up a tv in there so they can watch things when we are using the tv downstairs.  So,  if we are playing playstation on OUR tv after a hard day’s work,  don’t come whinging that you want to watch brain dribble like Big Brother.  GO WATCH YOUR OWN TV.  Sure,  you are more than welcome to share this space too,  but you cannot veto our space and our time,  especially when I have gone to extra lengths to give you the extra comforts you need.


In the time they have been here I have done a lot for them,  when it really should be the other way around.  They helped out ONE DAY for a bbq,  so I bought them chocolates as thanks.

On numerous occasions,  I cooked them dinner out of consideration for them cos I felt bad for them with their povo canned soups,  and barely got a thank you.  It was more a, “score!  Free dinner!”  How about you offer to clean the dishes after I slaved away making you a roast dinner?

There was one evening I did snap at them and went to my room (all over them wanting to watch Big Brother – I should have known then it was bad news).  The next day I apologised for my behaviour and bought them scones as retribution.

Fair enough you may not be able to afford financial retribution – and that’s not what I ask for.  Show your appreciation by washing the dishes,  or doing something else so I don’t feel like your fucking slave.


“Guys,  can you please not leave empty cans in the garden?”

“Guys,  can you please rinse your dishes?”

I don’t want to be a naggy person – why do you force me to be so?  Why do you have to be such children?  Fair enough if you wanna live like that in your own home,  but don’t do this shit in our house.

Never forget or get too complacent that this is someone else’s property,  so AGAIN have some forethought and don’t wait to be asked to clean up after your slovenly selves.


I always thought these things were common sense,  but obviously from our experience it really isn’t so.

So,  I urge anyone who may need to live with someone else for a while to take heed of these notes if you don’t want to break important relationships to you – because it will happen.

(You know what makes it worse?  I confronted our roommates yesterday about leaving the kitchen in a mess – instead of an apology,  I got met with defensive immature dribble and a non-acceptance for their shortcomings,  which long story short has led to me to be “the bitch” and now vindicated by the external family as a terrible person. WTF.  Seriously,  this bitch will get her comeuppance….)


And that my friends is why, roommates:  NOT EVEN ONCE.

Nonsense Unicorn