Horrible/crazy/funny roommate stories?

[The Armchair]

Sophomore year, same roommate as a frosh. He was a good roommate until the last eight weeks of school. He was a big pot head which didn't bother me because we agreed he'd only fulfill his drug habit elsewhere. But that changed: he went skiing over spring break, tore his ACL, and was pretty much room-bound for the rest of the semester. Oh, and he (naturally) got hooked on his pain killers and muscle relaxers.

Being homebound gives one a lot of time to think, and it only follows that sooner or later, you'll come up with a novel idea which seems great but is obviously insane. That day came about two weeks into his self-inflicted purgatory.

One day, while I'm away, he decides that he wants to loft his bed. This isn't all that difficult, he figures, because the beds are naturally bunkable. The metal frames interlock, allowing one bed to be about 5' to 6' off the ground while the other is about 18".

His theory was to combine the beds as per usual, but pop my bed frame -- the bottom one -- out from the contraption. Yes, this would put my bed about two inches off the ground, and no, he didn't consider this effect. But he also didn't consider the other effect: that the bottom bed stabilized the entire bunk, and that a bunkbed divided shall not stand.

So, I come home from class about 4pm to see his masterpiece. I point out that it won't work and that in any event, I don't want my bed to be two inches off the ground. Genius roommate goes to get cinder blocks (remember, he's on crutches and has a torn ACL) to fix the problem; I offer to help, but point out again that the loft will fall. He ignores my plea and my offer.

An hour later he and three friends show up with four cinder blocks (he wasn't carrying any). His dumbass friend carrying two of the blocks takes one and, with the ease of autistic child tying his shoe, lobs one of them onto my roommate's lofted bed.

Within 30 seconds, two RAs, seven other students, and a campus cop who (lucky us!) just happened to be in the building descended on our room, wondering what could have possibly exploded and whether anyone was hurt. Thankfully, the only thing hurt was, ironically enough, my roommate's right crutch, which was bent in half as he brilliantly had leaned it against the bed frame and under the loft.

No harm, no foul, one would think, and indeed, that is what happened -- with one exception: The cop asked where we got the cinder blocks from. I, being naive on a number of levels, informed him that they just showed up with it (how was I to know?). Apparently, the officer was in the building because someone had gone into a freshman dorm room and, you guessed it, stolen their cinder blocks.

Thankfully for my roommate, the officer was so concerned with having them transported back that he did not notice the lit bong on my roommate's desk.