In my senior year, I made the mistake of agreeing to room with 2 farmer dickheads. They partied literally every night. My 3rd roommate (good friend of mine) bailed after a couple weeks of living with them to be an RA because he couldn’t take waking up in the morning to an absolutely trashed apartment. They liked to make bacon every single morning. Every day that I went to class, I absolutely reeked of it. That might sound cool, but it gets old fast, trust me.
My best story? They liked to do the power hour. You know, 60 shots of beer in 60 minutes. They tried once with whiskey. At 10 in the morning. I came home from class and the oven glass was shattered and they were passed out on the living room floor. Apparently they got through 34 minutes, got into a fight, and one of them put the other one’s head through the oven. Good times