Describe the Dirtiest House You've Ever Been In

What’s the dirtiest house you’ve ever encountered? Stuff beyond the merely untidy and into the pathological realm. Mine is a friend’s house in high school. 12 kids and two parents living in a three-bedroom dump with exposed wiring and one toilet . . . the kicker was the day I went over and the two undiapered toddlers had pooped in the living room and then deposited a poop on each stair leading to the basement.

My poor friend – I couldn’t even stand to eat at her house because of the filth and stench and was always making lame excuses so I could flee.

Worst apartment cleanout was wall to wall filth/pill bottles/soiled undergarments-a sty sans piggies. Three trailerloads of trash went to the transfer station-over a ton of trash. :eek: Then I brought in the cleaning crew and started repairs. My bill to the landlord was over a grand.

Worst occupied home was someone who called me about bathroom repairs. Stink came out the front door when opened. Dogs with mangy fur sat on the furnishings licking themselves. Soggy newspaper on the floor surrounded the toilet and appeared to be about an inch thick. The tub had mildew that had mildew.

I said, OK-got it-I’ll mail you an estimate. Don’t you need to measure? Nah-I’m good. I wanted to get naked and put my clothes in a bag to keep my truck from getting skanky. Ewwww!

This was about eight or nine years ago, so I don’t exactly remember it in detail. I just know that I didn’t want to touch anything.

The house belonged to my boyfriend’s little sister’s boyfriend and his father. They weren’t exactly the highest of class and I don’t think they had a clue as to what a house should look like. Not only was it filthy and strewn with trash, but it was falling apart too. The only toilet was permanently backed up. Tiles were falling off of the bathroom walls. When I had to pee I opted to drive down to the local public park after dark in not the best of neighborhoods. I don’t understand how anyone could live like that.

My crazy Uncle Carl, who’s dead now. The entire house was a mess, especially the kitchem. He even managed to get white plastic conainers grimy, somehow.

What made it weird was that he apparently used to be a chef at the old Waldorf-Astoria in New York, way back when. You’d never guess it by the state of his kitche. I still have vivid memories of his shoving a very questionable dish of chicken at me and asking “Why don’t you have some? Are you afraid it isn’t clean?”

Hell, come on over to my house.

My wife’s pregnant with twins and has been on bed rest for two weeks.
I thought I could handle it…
the new maid comes Saturday.

I was gonna say my place in Hollywood where I lived for nearly 20 years. When I moved out every horizontal surface was covered with books. Thousands of them. I gave most of them away. Dust an inch thick avalanched down when anything was moved.

But, no, nothing compared to the previous posts.

My house. Ok, not now, but when my SO rented this place, he took it as-is and agreed to clean it and do a bunch of repairs in lieu of the first month’s rent.

There was rotting food piled all the way up to the faucet in both kitchen sinks. The kitchen floor was black, and he had to use a putty knife to chisel off the grime from the entire floor before he could even attack it with a scrub brush. The refrigerator was full of spilled, rotten food, and is still stained all over the inside from who-knows-what. The tile in the bathroom was so moldy and filthy that it simply couldn’t be cleaned, and has to be replaced.

Whoever lived here kept a dog upstairs in the storage closet, and the poor animal chewed the woodwork to bits trying to get out, and the smell of urine and poo was overwhelming. The hardwood floors are permanently ruined up there. The place used to be carpeted, but the carpet wasn’t even close to salvageable, so now we just have to deal with the stained and clawed hardwood.

He spent a month cleaning the downstairs before I moved in. His ex-wife, who runs her own housecleaning business, spent another week cleaning upstairs, including disposing of used needles and those little vials that junkies use for crack or heroin or whatever. :eek: I spent about two months scrubbing and bleaching and disinfecting everything.

I still think we should have had about three months free rent for turning this place back into a habitable abode. I have no idea who those people were, but they lived like freaking animals, and treated their poor animal like dirt. Gah, I still feel dirty just thinking about it.

The house of this guy I knew in high school. Poor guy, he was a good kid and I know he was embarassed. Why the hell his mother let it get that bad is beyond me because she seemed pretty normal. I can’t even begin to describe it. All I can say is that it needed to be condemned, there’s no way anyone could have ever gotten that place clean. And the smell, oy. You can’t get rid of cat smell once it’s in the carpet and walls.

Or maybe the house of a friend of my MIL’s. I’ve never been there, but I’ve seen pictures that were enough to make me almost throw up (literally).

I don’t know whether I can adequately describe an apartment I visited once in Manhattan.

The middle-aged guy who lived there literally never threw anything out. He had a 3-bedroom apartment (not cheap in NYC), and all the bedrooms were totally filled with things, and the living room and kitchen were about 90% filled.

When I say “filled,” imagine this: You start with an empty room. You make a stack in one corner, of crates of empty bottles, old newspapers, crates of old clothing, etc. When that stack reaches the ceiling, you start another stack, right up against it. Eventually, you fill the entire room, wall to wall and floor to ceiling. Then you start on the next room.

There was a path cleared from the front door to the kitchen and the bathroom. When you were on this path, you had stacks on both sides of you, floor to ceiling. You could dimly see some faint light way up ahead, from the bathroom window. The guy slept on a cot set up near the entrance to the apartment; that was the largest open space I saw. While I was there, I could hear the sound of critters scurrying around.

To this day, I have no idea how his belongings didn’t start a fire, or go crashing into his downstairs neighbors.

A girl whose home I lived in shortly before moving back home (and a week later, unexectedly went on vacation here and havent been back). She was just… so… weird. The thing is, I paid board, but I was still her personal housekeeper, because she said so. I needed her for my rides to work, so I just bit my tongue and bore it. It got even worse when I quit my job - I was still paying board, since I still had an income from another source. But I became her absolute slave. “Since you’re not doing anything…” and she’d hand me a list. Look. Just because I’m not working doesn’t mean I’m doing nothing all day, I was seeking another job and looking into going back to school, making appointments with UI to discuss my options, etc.

Let me tell you. Every. Single. Day. She left a fresh list of chores to do - things I had just done the day before. The entire house had to be spotless, or she’d say I was no good at cleaning. Or, even better, that I had “no common sense”. I’m getting to why it’s the filthiest house I’ve ever been in.

She lives in a trailer - nothing wrong with that. But she has this gigantic Rottweiler, who should either have a much larger home to live in, or a proper fence/dog house and chain outside. I don’t like the idea of keeping a dog outside all the time, but she really shouldn’t have owned that dog. She should have given her to a family with proper space. She only took the dog home because the family she got it from was going to give her away to a new home, and she wanted to keep her. Certainly you can keep a dog in a trailer - but she couldn’t, because she had absolutely no room. Not for a big dog like that. And so…
Every day, I’d have to send the dog to her parents’ home, next door, and I swept black dog hair off of the white floors. Though I kept my door shut, it was still in my bedroom. And in the living room, the kitchen, the hallway, the bathroom, her room. It clumped up and was in plant pots, plants, it was stuck to dirty dishes, it was on the sofa. Everywhere. Everywhere. Then she would come home and bring the dog back in, and it would start all over. Like a nightmare that won’t end.
On top of that, for some reason, she would track mud from outside all over the house. Because I would clean it up. Filth, dirt, mud. And I mean sloppy, wet mud. It got to the point that even after I scrubbed her floors as clean as they could be, they still looked grubby, and faint mud streaks were stained into the floors. Beautiful.
Her home was stuffed to the gills with her precious “crystal”. She didn’t have normal eating plates, or glasses, they were ALL crystal. When Miss Rottweiler walked into her home, one wag of the tail often took out several crystal pieces. I would clean the glass. If something broke and it was her own fault, she’d mutter “Oh, well, i can just buy more when they go on sale.” If I, or my cat, broke something? “That was my good crystal! You’ll have to pay for that!” Which is fine. But then she would severely overcharge me. When I brought her her Princess House catelogue to show her what the real price was, she would say “Oh! It went way up since then. It’s worth twice that much at least.” (I’d double check with other PH reps - the price didn’t go up).
Once, when my cat (never her precious kitty) knocked over a potted plant (actually, we can’t prove that… and I am very suspicious, since the cat had slept with me that night, and I keep my door closed) she actually, honest to Og - left the shattered pot and the soil on the kitchen floor, and she went out for the day. Why did she just leave it? “So you would see what your cat did, and clean it up.” Hey. I understand. I’ll clean up after my own damned cat… but I’m not sure I would leave that nasty mess all over my kitchen floor for several hours until I was due to wake up (I had worked until 4:30am the night before, and didn’t wake up until around 11am - she was up at 6, ate her breakfast, took her shower, got dressed up, all while that mess was on the floor. I don’t know how she could stand it… but let’s go on…)
Speaking of cleaning up after our own animals… my cat loved to stay beside me, and hung out primarily in my bedroom. I had her litterbox in the bathroom at first, but every time she’d take a dump, I’d never hear the end of it. I cleaned that thing twice a day to shut her up, but it just didn’t work. So, fed up, I finally moved the litterbox to a corner of my room, and kept a window open. Not pleasant, but it shut the psycho up. She even commented on how much more pleasant her bathroom was without it. Get this: she let her own cat in for a night once. While we were sleeping, the poor cat had to go… and since the litterbox was not accessible to her anymore… she pooped in the bathtub. I woke up the next morning, psycho had taken off, and left me this note: Clean the shit out of the tub.
when she made a “snack”, honest to Og. Every pan she owned. A snack to her? Fried steak. With onions and cabbage and peppers and mayo. Og forbid if she ever made dinner. However, she often ordered me to cook. Why? Since I was the better cook. I used up as little space and as few pots or pans as possible, and she’s ask me how I ever did it. Fear of the dishes, said I.
The dishes. I had one bowl, one fork, and one glass, that I used over and over, washing between uses by hand. Because it was too hard to keep up with her dirty dishes, let alone my own.
I was the only person who did laundry. Og forbid if I folded the towels “wrong”.

Why do I say she had the dirtiest house I’ve ever seen? Let’s sum up:
Every single day, I cleaned the filth she left behind. Her floors, windows, dishes, laundry, furniture, toilet, tub, sinks, mirrors, more dishes, her bedroom, the walls (which somehow got filthy) the shit she spilled in the fridge, the oven had to be cleaned often because of her snacks or “quick dinners” (~sigh), the dog had to be bathed often because it got filthy quickly, water the half a million plants she kept (that she couldn’t look after on her own). This all had to be done - every. single. day. Not to mention taking care of my own personal duties, keeping my own room neat, tending to my cat and her messes and litterbox, etc.

When I moved out, I came back a week later to pick some things up I’d left behind. You couldn’t see the floor. Anywhere. There was junk piled everywhere. There were dishes piled high in filthy, cold water in the sink. Everything stunk. Whatever I touched felt weird and sticky. The dog had crusty sores around her eyes. Half-eaten bowls of crap were left everywhere. There were three garbage bags that hadn’t been taken out, and had those big, black houseflies buzzing around them. I got my things and I bolted, nearly puking. I haven’t spoken to her since.

I apologise for rambling quite a bit - this post doubles as a mild rant that I haven’t been able to get off of my chest since it happened. I haven’t said too much to friends and relatives about it, so I wouldn’t seem like I just complained all the time. Finally, I get some release! She was a filthy, psycho, thieving, bragging, inconsiderate, unappreciative, mean person! And she has the filthiest house I’ve ever seen, because she has no one to boss around to clean it for her! puke!


I delivered medical supplies for awhile and a lot of those were for prescriptions to private homes…there was one house that was so bad I would inhale at the sidewalk and run to the door, ring the bell, wait until the disgusting slobs would answer, hand them the drugs, wait for them to sign and then run away.

This is where I learned to hold my breath for 2 minutes with no problems.

The police and social services had been called on them a few times the place was so bad. Cats and dogs, throwing trash on the floor, needles, the works…but the worst part was the people themselves.

They were brother and sister - early 40’s, unemployed, ailments galore (even a goiter! Huge growth out of the side of her neck. Nasty!). They probably never took a bath or a shower, and they never left the house (pizza boxes everywhere). What icked us out the most was that they were always in their underwear and, and, and…the main drug I delivered just gave us the willies:

She was on the Pill.



A friend in high school.

Similar to a lot of others here, always dog/cat urine/poop smell and usually a poop somewhere in the house.

Broken windows.

Holes in doors.

Always dishes in the sink.

Mildew on mildew in the tub.

AND, they had a kid who was kind of “special”. You’d always find toys in the toilet. Dark water in the tub with toys and clothes in it.

They would have a naked Christmas tree up in May with needles and broken ornaments on the floor all around it.

The thing I remember most was the stairs. EVERY single stair just had stuff pushed to boths sides on it, a comb, a book, tons of pet hair, a mug, some cassette tapes, a shirt. There was just a path up the middle with that stuff on both sides of every stair.

You weren’t allowed to look their dog in the eye.

Dear God, Anastaseon. I think the only thing missing from your story is an obese mother in a crib with a penchant for eggs.

My mother agreed to house-sit for her younger sister, Marissa, for a month. My aunt’s house was so disgustingly dirty, this story lives on among our family. After a couple days, my mom called in her other sisters for help cleaning up the sty.

This house had:

  • Unidentifiable stains on every piece of furniture
  • Uncleaned litter box in the shower
  • An entire room stuffed with random items
  • Every drawer or shelf was stuffed with trash
  • There were maggots in the kitchen. MAGGOTS!

My aunt had a little girl and the running joke we have is that the house was so dirty, my cousin will probably never catch a disease. It took my mom two weeks to clean out the house. Just writing this up, makes me shudder.

I’ll admit it, I don’t get the reference :o :frowning:

Well, she’s 410 lbs… does that count? :eek:
Come to think of it, she likes eggs, too. It was her most requested dish… “Make me something with lots of eggs in it.” Yes’m.
And she did talk about putting rails on her bed to keep from falling out…

But she’s not a mother. She wants to be… :eek:

A couple of years ago some friends were telling me about someone they knew from high school. He lived there with just his Mom and they never, ever took their trash out. They started off just leaving the bags in a spare room but when it filled they began to use every room in the house. Trails were left where they could walk through but the bags had accumulated to a depth of about waist to shoulder high, depending. Apparently the garage was completely full up to the rafters. They kept at least one dog in the house and it’s shit and puke was barely smellable over that of the rotting garbage. Several of my friends had been there and they all confirmed that it was every bit as bad as it sounded.

My Grandfather’s. Stuff piled in the kitchen sink for months on end. Whiskey bottles and trash all over the kitchen counters. Same on the dining room table. My brother freaking out because there was moldy furniture in the bedroom he was supposed to stay in. One room devoured by termites so that there wasn’t even a floor. My grandmother died in '69 and my grandfather died in '85 and I don’t think the house was cleaned at all during those years. I have pictures where it literally looks like a tornado hit the house.

When he died my mother and my aunt cleared up the mail off the floor and commented that it was probably the first time anyone had seen the floor in 16 years. The termite room had to be bulldozed.


LIU’s post reminded me of a tragic incident a few years back, in my uncle’s town. An old woman and her retarded daughter were found dead in their house. The mailman noticed the mail piling up, and called the police, who had to break down the door (it was triple-locked). Inside, the police found the bodies of the old woman, who had died before the daughter. The daughter had died of starvation! Inside, the house was filled with bags of trash, junk and garbage. In the driveway was a pickup truck (4 flat tires), filled with bags of trash and garbage.
Sadly, nobody in the neighborhood knew these people…if neighbors had checked in on them, the tragedy need not have happened.
Sadly, there are such houses in many neighborhoods…so please, check up on your elderly neighbors!

I did maintainance for a guy that owned a bunch of rental houses. One morning I was given a work order for a rental and it had to be ready in 3 days. When I arrived at the house, all the windows were broken and the front door was nailed shut. I entered through the back doors and almost lost my breakfast. The woman that had lived there had allowed her horse and 2 goats free run of the house. I counted at least 20 piles of horse crap and at least 100 piles from the goats. The animals had chewed on virtally every piece of woodwork in the house. The toilet had apparently quit working so the renter started using the bathtub. When it got half full she nailed the door shut and was using 5 gallon buckets that she would put in the other bathroom when the buckets got full. The weird part was the toilet in the 2nd bath worked just fine. The renter that was suppose to be out of the house hadn’t moved yet and the master bedroom was floor to ceiling with clothes, most brand name stuff and it all looked new.

The renter could not be located to so the humane society took the horse and goats. Goodwill would not take the clothes after seeing the house so they all went to the dump. And the house was knocked down and the owner built a duplex on the property.