He got in about 12ish but I heard he was proper fucked (I heard a lot of stumbling and it took him about 5 minutes to lock the front door again), he has a thing about wanting to talk at me when he gets in drunk, I try and avoid it at all costs now, so I turned my lights off sharpish and got in bed.
Then it sounded like he fell down the stairs a couple of times. Cries of “Ow, ow, ow” were heard. Then the ‘pain’ got louder as neither my other housemate or I were ‘woken’, or rushed to his attention – the attention seeking knob.
There was then some clattering in the kitchen for a quite while but I must’ve drifted off.
He came in my room about 2am, whilst I was asleep, turned my light on – which woke me up – muttered “shit, sorry” and then he shut the door and carried on whatever the fuck he was doing. (What did he come in my room for if I was obviously in bed? I’m getting very concerned!).
His room door closed with a thud. Then I heard him fall into something, fall onto something and go crashing to the floor in his room. A cry of “ow, that really hurt” and then more cries of “ow…ow…ow” which again got louder. Add in some singing and/or talking to himself too.
It was a peaceful night in all.
The lights didn’t work in my room, landing or the bathroom.
I went downstairs and he’s left a trail of destruction – making my way downstairs there were black marks down the white walls and beige carpet where he’s leant/slided/fell down the stairs. There were also small bits of bread all over the place (he must’ve been worried he wouldn’t have been able to find his way back to the kitchen). Over half a loaf has been thrown away or eaten (not a big problem….if he ever bought fucking bread). Two burned pieces of toast were still in the toaster and butter all over the counter top.
There was also a pair of boxers in the bin – which were wet around the front area of the boxer shorts. Now, I’m no genuis, but given he could hardly stand up, I don’t think he opted for a clean out of his underwear drawer at 2am. The fucking dirty bastard.
Oh and there was some kind of shite on my doorframe – it was either butter/spew/snot – there was also some by the kitchen lightswitch. (I’m guessing it was some kind of toast/butter/can’t stand up/fall into doorframe scenario – but I’m not taking any chances). I left him a post-it note pointing to said object because he’ll just be igronant of everything and go to work.
My guess is I won’t see him now until Sunday/Monday because he’ll want to keep out of the way.
Even if he’s a tit sometimes, he provides us with some good cannon fodder and at least I don’t piss myself.