One previous roommate would play Ozzy's "Goodbye to Romance" (easily his worst song and anyone who likes it is a total pussy and probably should be stripped of their copy of Volume 4 immediately...but that's neither here nor there) on repeat whenever some shithead she met at the bar and fucked for a few days or weeks inevitably--and it was ALWAYS inevitable and they were ALWAYS shitheads-- would sever ties.
Kind of a roommate story....
Another dated the guy who owned the He'brew Beer Brewing Co. He was the guy who came up with the idea to get generic shit tasting beer and slap a kitschy label on it and whore it around to specialty shops and beer-snob bars that would jack the price up on what was essentially the swill left at the bottom of a vat of a particularly foul batch of Sam Adams Light. After the first Livefastdie tour I came home a little worse for the wear after driving home overnight straight from Chapel Hill and wanted to get a good 6 - 8 before even attempting to do anything or talk to anybody. So I was dismayed as you all can imagine that this fucker had moved into my room in the week or so I was gone and set up shop with his whole business, his computer, had his laundry drying and hanging off my record shelf, shit all over the place, clothes and books and shit beer all over my bed where I planned to sleep...you know that kinda stuff.
Regardless, it was an ugly scene when he came home to find me pitching his stuff out the door and at the brick wall in the living room but he wisely chose not to mention a word about it ever again. I think he dumped that dingy broad that was my roommate a short time later.