The Continuing Saga of Apt. I-10

It's hard to say what started it all. I think from the first time I met him, I wasn't a big fan. He's one of those people who rubs me the wrong way.
Maybe it was his habit of calling people "nig", a term i find very offensive, or perhaps it was the way he made himself right at home, without acknowledging his intrusion, or offering to make it right. Maybe I'm just too sensitive to invasion of my personal and living space, but it didn't start us off on the right foot.

I looked the other way when his week of staying on the couch inexplicably turned into three weeks, then more. I was pretty upset when he invited a few old friends (a creepy 50-something man among them) to stay overnight in our apartment, without asking permission of us. When he blatantly denied my request for him to leave, I was furious, but did nothing. After one rather late "house party" attended by several people I didn't really know, he stole my stash, jar and all. I knew it was him but couldn't get him to own up to it, so I did nothing. By this point I realized I had no experience dealing with this kind of brazen. I can't say I've ever had someone stand up to obvious distaste with such resolution.

After I realized direct confrontation (not my strongest skill by far) wasn't going to work, I swallowed my distaste for "telling" and went to our apartment complex head office. After explaining my situation, the girl behind the desk said she'd take care of it. They told him he'd have to leave, so he moved out most of his stuff but was still sleeping there that night. We had a bit of a run-in the next morning, but i had to go to work so it didn't actually get anywhere.

Hearing that he was still at the apartment (my boss had asked me how the situation was shaping up) the apartment office went to my place and escorted him off the property. Unbeknownst to me, they didn't keep a very sharp eye on him as he collected the last of his stuff.
When I got home that evening I was pleased to see him gone. I ate some food and settled down to relax for the evening. That's when I noticed I was missing a bottle of rum. I knew it should have been there, but for some reason it was gone. Immediately I suspected him, and I went around the apartment looking for other things he had taken. In the end I found that he had stolen my laptop, some headphones, a broken digital camera, cables, chargers, etc. It boggled my mind how one could be so stupid: I mean did he really think I wouldn't know it was him?
With this insane flavor of crazy showing up in the story, I took the obvious next step of filing a police report. I was at work all day, and at some point he borrowed my roommate's housekeys and returned my laptop and headphones, along with a few cables, but still has some of my stuff.

I can't express how much I want this kid to die.

To make matters much worse, for the past three nights he's decided to crash our place and hang out all evening. First night, I told him he couldn't stay over, and he got all indignant but went home at the end of the night. Next evening I was really tired and never actually encountered him, but he was asleep on my floor the next morning. I stewed over this all day, but being averse to confrontation did nothing about it. This was in fact yesterday, and he showed up that evening with several people, more to show up later. I and my roommates knew about one of these people, so we weren't too excited about him throwing impromptu gatherings at our place. There was a birthday party that evening we were all going to, and when I showed up he was already there. My friend and party host wasn't too excited about the kid being there, so proceeded to kick him out. This pleased many people at the party immensely.

After this he tried to get back into our place, asking all my roommates to let him in. I had previously talked to them and we decided not to let him in, but of course when I got home he's in my kitchen grilling something with the George Foreman. I stood for five minutes eyeing him while he pretended not to notice me. I gave him an ultimatum: give back my stuff, and get out of my house. No choice; I was tired of dealing with him. When he flat refused, I snapped and grabbed him and threw him at the door. My roommates pulled me off of him as he cowered behind the couch. It was so great seeing the fear I put in his eyes and his pleading looks at my roommies to back him up, and not getting anything. I told him to leave, never come back, and to bring back my stuff he still has, as well as paying me for the alcohol and weed he took. He sulked away, and some guy from downstairs came up because he'd heard the noise. I was straight screaming at the kid.

I can promise if he comes back he'll get something broken. I can't stand that bastard.