House Like a Hole

First, a warning to owners of real estate: if you have tenants, this series of photos is going to give you nightmares.

Here’s the text from a posting on a forum at

This has nothing to do with the Hurricane. We had a resident who had an outstanding balance for over a month and no one could get ahold of her. The Bookkeeper went inside after so many tries to leave a note and this is what we found:

I’ve posted some of the photos below. For the whole set, go see the original posting.

Here’s the entrance. This does not bode well…

Entrance of trash-strewn house

In the living room, we see that the if you remove the middle cushion from a couch, you’ve got a handy built-in trash can. And who needs an ashtray when you’ve got an armrest?

Living room of trash-strewn house

If you thought that the living room was loaded with trash, it’s nothing compared to the bedroom.

Bedroom of trash-strewn house

Here’s the computer. It looks as though the tenant uses the mouse way more than they keyboard.

Computer in trash-strewn house

I’ve saved the worst for last: the bathroom. The toilet looks out of commission, which probably means that the bucket was its replacement.

Bathroom of trash-strewn house

According to the post, there are supposed to be two cats in the apartment, but they haven’t been able to find them. Needless to say, the stench is powerful.

How do people end-up living like this? Mental illness? Crystal meth? Extreme laziness?

8 replies on “House Like a Hole”

It actually is a mental illness – look up hoarding. However, I would also not entirely *rule out* crystal meth or another recreational drug.

I wonder if this person only eats and drinks from the same place, the white with orange stripes where she/he has all the bags and cups from. What place is it, anyway? They look like 7-11 cups but the colours don’t fit.

It’s a mental illness, related to OCD, which doesn’t seem to make sense, but the OCD in this case is hoarding trash (rather than obsessively cleaning, which a previous roommate of mine used to do. I guess in the end I’d still rather live with someone who sprays Lysol on my dinner than someone who puts out cigarettes on top of the computer.)

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