The only benefit of all this being the bonfire of his stuff when you finally have the balls to enter his EPA declared Disaster Zone of a bedroom.
Roommate from hell?
Has a mortal fear of showers.
Cuts his filthy, puke-inducing toenails right in front of you.
Hawks up phlegm, and then chews it and swallows, around fifty times an day.
Farts around 50 times an hour, and laughs every fucking time, like a fucking moron.
Doesn't even own a fucking toothbrush.
Tells you when he's just masturbated, and describes it in intricate detail.
2)Proof that no god exists.
John: I don't know, I just don't know. I can't go on like this, John! I just can't!
* Starts crying on Paul's shoulder*
Paul: * pats John on the back*
There, there. There there.