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Backstabbing Lazy Tenants
 Welcome to the Group House issue of BLT. Living with a group of people can greatly increase
your standard of living. For example, if on your own, you could afford an efficiency apartment
with no money left over for fun, you could get together with 3 or 4 friends and rent a place big
enough to throw parties in. And still be able to buy the fixings for said parties. If on your
own, you could afford a cardboard box and some ramen noodles with no place to cook them -- they
crunch okay -- then you could get together with 11 or 12 people who you more or less know (or
have at least slept with) and rent a townhouse. Of course, you'll have to lie on the lease.
The place will always be repulsively messy. There will be noise around the clock, but do
you need sleep to do a job you plan to fuck up within the month anyway?
Of course, your potential sex partners will be subjected to all sorts of unspeakable
humiliation. But if they really want you, they'll put up with it. After enough years of group
house living, the banter can seem like fun to hardcore group house denizens. For example, I
dated this one guy for like an entire summer, despite the fact that before every date, I would
swear to my housemates that I was going to dump the guy. One evening, after I had endured
dinner and brought the guy home once again, I came downstairs to get something or other. (A
glass of water or who knows what. I don't remember.) So anyway, I'm standing on the landing
in my towel and my date is upstairs tied to my bed. (Maybe I was getting a knife to cut him
loose.) "Do you want me to hold your self-respect while you're not using it?" one of my
housemates enquired. "Ha, ha, okay," I replied, "but if you get even one scratch on it,
you are not getting a tip." Can you believe that my date, having lived in group
situations for less time than I ... well, he didn't think it was funny. But he didn't
leave either. Which just goes to prove my point about how group house living doesn't
really interfere with your sex life that much. (Or maybe it says something about the
strength of the plastic ties and headboard I owned at the time...) Anyway, the scene
depicted on the front cover of this issue, really did happen. But it happened to
Sarah and she didn't think to tie her date down before he took her out so it didn't
work out. (Slash, please note that we were both leaning out my bedroom window --
how the fuck big a townhouse do you remember Cambodia being? -- and the gentleman
had more hair than your mean caricature suggests!) Actually, I think maybe
there was some other reason Sarah stopped seeing that beau. And today, time is
doing what my friend Kathleen calls "the dance of life on the hairline" of the
aforementioned gentleman and I'm driving a penis car. So who is laughing
now.
Bitch: Amelia G
Dickhead: Forrest Black
Loud Housemates: Sarah McKinley Oakes, Your Kindly Uncle William Judy, Your Nasty-Ass Nephew Andrew Greenburg, Kangal, and Chris "with Hair" Best
Messy Housemates: Eric "Slash" Dunn, Barry McCarthy, Mez
Volume 5, #1, ISSN 1068-2031 BIPAD 83617, copyright 1995 CBLT,
BLT (Black Leather Times) is a registered trademark of CBLT.
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