So finally the end is here.
It's not been without many annoyances from The Twat lying to the letting agency about me not having paid my rent, making his new flatmate (who also seems to double as his lapdog) withhold my deposit and stiff me 50p in the process, deduct the cost of his letting agency fee for the new contract from my deposit and steal my bicycle pump.
Nevertheless, I am glad to be rid of him. Money is money, I will always make more. Bicycle pumps are bicycle pumps, I can always get another one once I make some more money.
Life in the new flat is shaping up quite well. My new flatmates are not without their faults, but above everything, they are reasonable people. I'd forgotten what it was like to live with people like that.
I heard a funny story from my friend K the other night. She ran into The Twat the other night in some pub in the locale and he told her he'd like to explain what happened as he was sure I'd been bitching about him to all and sundry. She told him she didn't care and walked away from it. The truth is, there is only one person who intersects mine and The Twat's mutual social circles who knows of this blog's existence. This person, I am sure, is quite discreet and will not reveal the existence of this blog to The Twat so it's not as if I've been going around telling anyone who would listen that The Twat is, well, a Twat. Everyone who asks me why I've moved out gets a stock "well, it wasn't working out" or a "creative differences" type answer. There are a couple of people who know the real story, but I'm not running to them crying about how someone took away my rattle so I think I've dealt with this in a fairly adult way. However, I find it interesting that The Twat found it necessary to try and explain things to K. I've heard him describe K in not very flattering terms so why did he feel it necessary to defend himself to her? This however, is left as an exercise for the reader. For I, thankfully - praise be to the 50 million Vedic Gods - do not have to live with him, or in the flat of misery any longer and once this blog post is over I hope to never ever have to think of The Twat again.
So what now for this blog? Should I share it with everyone like I intended to originally? No. I don't think that's necessary. It's been excellent as a form of catharsis and there is no need to attempt to humiliate The Twat with it, or in turn make me look like some sort of petty bastard. So should I take it down?
I don't know.
Maybe?
Maybe I should re-read it first?
Sunday, 15 November 2009
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
More Mildly Annoying Things
On the train back from work today I realised that I've forgotten my bicycle pump at my old place. In addition to it I have left some Vanish, a box of handwashing powder, some clothes hangers and a couple of S-Video cables. The place I moved out of before this got a 40" LCD TV and a seven hundred quid Herman Miller Aeron chair courtesy of me.
Somehow I'm not too bothered by either of them. It is annoying to lose this stuff, but in the grand scheme of things they are just things. I can always get more of them or get them back if I really wanted to. But I don't. It's probably why I find it hilarious that The Twat hasn't brought this up yet. It was funny how he was so concerned with getting his crappy sunglasses returned but is not so forthcoming with my stuff. I wonder what the reaction would be if I were to request my stuff back.
Maybe I'll find out once I get the rest of my deposit back from the new bloke.
Somehow I'm not too bothered by either of them. It is annoying to lose this stuff, but in the grand scheme of things they are just things. I can always get more of them or get them back if I really wanted to. But I don't. It's probably why I find it hilarious that The Twat hasn't brought this up yet. It was funny how he was so concerned with getting his crappy sunglasses returned but is not so forthcoming with my stuff. I wonder what the reaction would be if I were to request my stuff back.
Maybe I'll find out once I get the rest of my deposit back from the new bloke.
Thursday, 22 October 2009
Drawing Out To A Close
After several e-mails back and forth the saga is drawing out to a close. The Twat has extracted his pound of flesh by making the new person moving into the flat withold part of the agency fee from my part of the deposit. I offered to split it three ways so it would be fairer but the Twat is insistent that I pay the extra £19 because he is classy like that.
The new guy owes me a sum of over a thousand pounds. Chump change for most people, but an amount that would make a real difference to someone in my situation. He's sent me an e-mail saying he's paid in £500 of what he owes me and will pay me the rest once his deposit from his old flat clears. It's lovely to know that I can help him out in this small way. I should add "housing deposit assistance" to my list of good qualities.
To be fair, it is the estate agents' fault for not ensuring my deposit was fully refunded when the new person moved in. You'd think they'd want to be on safe ground with someone new moving in but hey, expecting estate agents to have intelligence is like expecting an amoeba to recite the times tables. However, it does seem like the Twat has found someone equally inconsiderate to move in with him. Awesome.
The new guy owes me a sum of over a thousand pounds. Chump change for most people, but an amount that would make a real difference to someone in my situation. He's sent me an e-mail saying he's paid in £500 of what he owes me and will pay me the rest once his deposit from his old flat clears. It's lovely to know that I can help him out in this small way. I should add "housing deposit assistance" to my list of good qualities.
To be fair, it is the estate agents' fault for not ensuring my deposit was fully refunded when the new person moved in. You'd think they'd want to be on safe ground with someone new moving in but hey, expecting estate agents to have intelligence is like expecting an amoeba to recite the times tables. However, it does seem like the Twat has found someone equally inconsiderate to move in with him. Awesome.
Saturday, 17 October 2009
Additional Twattery
If you've ever rented a place through the incompetent thieves also known as estate agents you'd know things are never over until you've had your deposit returned. Even though I've now moved out the wankers seem to be in no hurry to assist me with obtaining my deposit.
For some reason they want me to get my deposit back from the new occupant of the flat. So he's supposed to pay me the amount of the money for the deposit. This sounds slightly dodge to me because I was under the impression that swapping deposits this way was illegal. I do not want to do this for two reasons. Firstly, I have no idea whom this person is, and secondly, my dealings were with the estate agency and not the new tenant, so it only seems fair that I do not have to deal with them.
I had an interesting conversation with the woman who's in charge of our property when I rung them up yesterday. Estate agents are usually not very clever people and the Twatmate's petty, lying e-mail to them accusing me of not having paid my rent has not helped. For some reason she wants me to prove that I have paid my rent to the Twat. I explained to her that I was under no obligation to do this as they have received the rent for the month from us already and whatever arrangement between the Twat and I was exactly that and they were not a party to it. She however duly displayed the lack of intelligence so rightly attributed to the people of her profession and was incapable of comprehending this. I also explained to her that while the plan of swapping deposits sounds lovely and hassle free in principle, the new tenant had so far refused to acknowledge my e-mails and I had no contact details for him. I also tried to explain to her, that he is in an ideal situation at this point due to them having asked him to swap deposits with me. As long as he ignores my attempts to get in touch with him then he does not have to part with over a thousand pounds in English money! Result!
I didn't threaten going to the CAB or the TDS people because I don't want anyone's backs up unnecessarily. However, as the former agency was part of the TDS scheme this commits them to returning my deposit in full within 10 days of me moving out of the property.
Familiarising oneself with the nuances of rental agreements is fine, but I'd rather have to do it out of choice and not necessity. These arseholes are being completely unprofessional in dealing with me and I really do not want to have to go the legal route because I do not have the time to do this.
I live in hope that a satisfactory solution will present itself within 10 days.
For some reason they want me to get my deposit back from the new occupant of the flat. So he's supposed to pay me the amount of the money for the deposit. This sounds slightly dodge to me because I was under the impression that swapping deposits this way was illegal. I do not want to do this for two reasons. Firstly, I have no idea whom this person is, and secondly, my dealings were with the estate agency and not the new tenant, so it only seems fair that I do not have to deal with them.
I had an interesting conversation with the woman who's in charge of our property when I rung them up yesterday. Estate agents are usually not very clever people and the Twatmate's petty, lying e-mail to them accusing me of not having paid my rent has not helped. For some reason she wants me to prove that I have paid my rent to the Twat. I explained to her that I was under no obligation to do this as they have received the rent for the month from us already and whatever arrangement between the Twat and I was exactly that and they were not a party to it. She however duly displayed the lack of intelligence so rightly attributed to the people of her profession and was incapable of comprehending this. I also explained to her that while the plan of swapping deposits sounds lovely and hassle free in principle, the new tenant had so far refused to acknowledge my e-mails and I had no contact details for him. I also tried to explain to her, that he is in an ideal situation at this point due to them having asked him to swap deposits with me. As long as he ignores my attempts to get in touch with him then he does not have to part with over a thousand pounds in English money! Result!
I didn't threaten going to the CAB or the TDS people because I don't want anyone's backs up unnecessarily. However, as the former agency was part of the TDS scheme this commits them to returning my deposit in full within 10 days of me moving out of the property.
Familiarising oneself with the nuances of rental agreements is fine, but I'd rather have to do it out of choice and not necessity. These arseholes are being completely unprofessional in dealing with me and I really do not want to have to go the legal route because I do not have the time to do this.
I live in hope that a satisfactory solution will present itself within 10 days.
Thursday, 15 October 2009
Escape From The Shagpad
It is done.
Not fully done, but a sort of done in a half baked sense of the word. I've moved out of The Horrid (but spacious and awesome-kitchen-ed) Shagpad and into a new place. Sure the kitchen isn't as good as before and there could be a bit more storage for my various utensils but the place is nice and it is somewhere I can actually live in without The Twat trying to poke his nose in every single thing I do.
Things are still not over though. E-mails from The Twat keep popping up in my work inbox like fruit flies from that time I left a banana in my tennis bag for two weeks without noticing in Sri Lanka. Except the e-mails are more frequent, more annoying and smell a lot more like bullshit than rotting fruit. The Twat is trying to get me to pay half the agency fee for having a new tenancy agreement drawn up for the poor sod who took my place. He also e-mailed me today asking for a baking tray and a frying pan back. Funny that seeing as they're both mine. The frying pan I can understand him trying to con me out of. It cost me close to a hundred pounds and is probably the best name in day to day cookware, not that The Twat would know seeing as he is barely capable of burning bacon. The baking tray is a 99p affair I bought from Asda when I lived in Bristol so it's hilarious The Twat can be so small minded to ask for it back. The letting agents have also not refunded me my deposit yet, but this is par for the course with them I believe.
In addition to this The Twat has sent an e-mail to the letting agency copying me in stating that I've not paid my rent, left rubbish bags that needed to be cleared and didn't move out until the day after it was agreed I would move out. Odd. I've paid the rent already, I left a bag of rubbish in the bin where rubbish usually goes and a bag of clothes for the NSPCC to collect like I usually did when I lived in The Horrid Shagpad. I don't remember it being a problem then and I'm surprised that it is a problem now and as tempting as it was I didn't Welsh on the last of my rent.
I guess he is pettier than I thought. A petty, lying, thief.
Not fully done, but a sort of done in a half baked sense of the word. I've moved out of The Horrid (but spacious and awesome-kitchen-ed) Shagpad and into a new place. Sure the kitchen isn't as good as before and there could be a bit more storage for my various utensils but the place is nice and it is somewhere I can actually live in without The Twat trying to poke his nose in every single thing I do.
Things are still not over though. E-mails from The Twat keep popping up in my work inbox like fruit flies from that time I left a banana in my tennis bag for two weeks without noticing in Sri Lanka. Except the e-mails are more frequent, more annoying and smell a lot more like bullshit than rotting fruit. The Twat is trying to get me to pay half the agency fee for having a new tenancy agreement drawn up for the poor sod who took my place. He also e-mailed me today asking for a baking tray and a frying pan back. Funny that seeing as they're both mine. The frying pan I can understand him trying to con me out of. It cost me close to a hundred pounds and is probably the best name in day to day cookware, not that The Twat would know seeing as he is barely capable of burning bacon. The baking tray is a 99p affair I bought from Asda when I lived in Bristol so it's hilarious The Twat can be so small minded to ask for it back. The letting agents have also not refunded me my deposit yet, but this is par for the course with them I believe.
In addition to this The Twat has sent an e-mail to the letting agency copying me in stating that I've not paid my rent, left rubbish bags that needed to be cleared and didn't move out until the day after it was agreed I would move out. Odd. I've paid the rent already, I left a bag of rubbish in the bin where rubbish usually goes and a bag of clothes for the NSPCC to collect like I usually did when I lived in The Horrid Shagpad. I don't remember it being a problem then and I'm surprised that it is a problem now and as tempting as it was I didn't Welsh on the last of my rent.
I guess he is pettier than I thought. A petty, lying, thief.
Monday, 28 September 2009
So I Fucked Up
I have to meet my potential new flatmates tomorrow. In light of this I was a bit anxious to get my current living situation sorted out. So here is the e-mail exchange between The Twat and myself that took place today
A reasonable request you'd think. I don't want to live with him and he has stated he doesn't want to live with me.
Fair enough. I thought Ulrike wouldn't be a good fit for this place anyway.
I duly let her know and I waited. And I waited. And then I waited some more.Then I sent The Twat this today
The reply was:
Alright, now we're getting somewhere. Note he has not used please, thank you, and all those other niceties society demands. Rude fucker. Anyway, I told him it wasn't a problem and tried to see whom he'd offered the place to:
And he comes back with:
From:
The Twat
Sent: 28 September 2009
To: Dhana
Subject: RE: Tenants
No, lucy..
The Twat
When The Twat told me he'd offered Lucy the place I wasn't sure whether I should be happy for her because she'd gotten the place or sorry for her because she'd have to live with The Twat. I did know she was a bit worried about finding somewhere to live so I texted her and let her know The Twat's reply asking if he'd gotten in touch with her. Anyway, shortly afterwards I got this:
What the fuck? Is it so difficult to get a name right? Bear in mind that Lucy now thinks The Twat wants her to live in our place. Fuck. I am going to have to break the news to her. Brilliant. Anyway, I also tried to see if she could check on why Louise didn't want to move into the place so I e-mailed her as well. She's found out a couple of her friends are also looking to move so she's going to join forces with them. Good for her. So after my research I mailed the twat with the following:
Civil, polite and succint I thought. And here is my reply:
She is not weird you dumb, inconsiderate fuck.
You are the weird fucker. The weird bastard who wont screw the tops back onto the bottles, the dickhead who wont shut the fridge when he's done with it, the cunt who keeps nicking my food without so much as a "by your leave", the putrescent maggotshite who keeps leaving hairs in the bath, the wankfuck who is so deaf he has to listen to the telly at volumes that only people on the wrong side of ninety should need, the inconsiderate nincompoop who cannot understand that life is not about what you can get away with but about how you treat your fellow men, the hypocritical arselicker who is completely oblivious to all the stupid things you do constantly and will probably never realise.
That is what is weird. Not that poor, sweet, nervous girl whom you're rejecting because you have the power to do it.
If the Gods I believe in are real then one day you will get what you deserve. But people like you rarely do. You'll get everything you ever wanted, you'll never realise how much you hurt the people around you, but for one thing I thank the Gods, and it is that I will never, ever, ever, be like you.
From: Dhana
Sent: 24 September 2009 10:32
To: The Twat
Subject: Tenants
Hi The Twat
I'm being chased by Lucy and Ulrike asking if you've managed to set a
time to meet them. Would it be possible for you to let them know when
you're hoping to see them please? I think I've already sent on their
contact details to you, but here they are again.
Lucy - 079whatever
Ulrike - 078whatever
Ulrike has a boyfriend who she says will visit from time to time, so
perhaps that is not ideal? She's also looking for a shorter term let.
I'm not sure what your impressions were of Louise, but from the two
people above I reckon Lucy is probably going to be a better fit for you.
I told her you like the flat to be clean at all times and she's of the
same opinion. She's looking to live with someone who's got their own
stuff going on so she has some space which the flat is perfect for so
she wont cramp you. I also get the impression Lucy is more sociable than
Ulrike and possibly more considerate? She's single, has single friends
in Clapham she goes out with and has some interests in common with you
(telly etc.) so I reckon she'd definitely be worth meeting.
I'm not sure if Tate have been in touch with you, but the new person
replacing me will have to undergo referencing and this could take up to
a week according to them. I'll have to undergo referencing with the new
agency too and I'll need to arrange for my room to be cleaned prior to
leaving so I'd really appreciate it if you could come to a decision soon
so we're both not rushed. I know you don't want to hurry things and take
your time, but seeing as there's not been any more interest in the room
and it's only 10 days to the date I want to move out I thought it'd be
best to get things going. When I started looking for a new place rooms
came and went pretty quickly. They're both probably looking at other
places as well so you may need to make a decision on someone before they
possibly choose somewhere else.
Thanks,
Dhana
A reasonable request you'd think. I don't want to live with him and he has stated he doesn't want to live with me.
From: The Twat
Sent: 24 September 2009
To: Dhana
Subject: RE: Tenants
Do me a favour then….tell Ulrike that the room has been let to someone else and I will arrange to meet lucy….i thought lou was fine, so I will decide between them 2 and offer one of them the room
Fair enough. I thought Ulrike wouldn't be a good fit for this place anyway.
I duly let her know and I waited. And I waited. And then I waited some more.Then I sent The Twat this today
From: Dhana
Sent: 28 September 2009
To: The Twat
Subject: New Flatmate
Hi The Twat,
Have you made a decision yet?
Thanks,
Dhana
The reply was:
From: The Twat
Sent: 28 September 2009
To: Dhana
Subject: RE: Tenants
I txt the girl I thought was alright and got no reply, the other girl I
wasn't too keen on, have another viewing tonite at 7....will u be able
to tidy room?
The Twat
Alright, now we're getting somewhere. Note he has not used please, thank you, and all those other niceties society demands. Rude fucker. Anyway, I told him it wasn't a problem and tried to see whom he'd offered the place to:
From: Dhana
Sent: 28 September 2009
To: The Twat
Subject: New Flatmate
Yup no problem.
Who is the one you texted? Lou?
And he comes back with:
From:
The Twat
Sent: 28 September 2009
To: Dhana
Subject: RE: Tenants
No, lucy..
The Twat
When The Twat told me he'd offered Lucy the place I wasn't sure whether I should be happy for her because she'd gotten the place or sorry for her because she'd have to live with The Twat. I did know she was a bit worried about finding somewhere to live so I texted her and let her know The Twat's reply asking if he'd gotten in touch with her. Anyway, shortly afterwards I got this:
From: The Twat
Sent: 28 September 2009 14:11
To: Dhana
Subject: RE: Tenants
Sorry, it was lou I txt
What the fuck? Is it so difficult to get a name right? Bear in mind that Lucy now thinks The Twat wants her to live in our place. Fuck. I am going to have to break the news to her. Brilliant. Anyway, I also tried to see if she could check on why Louise didn't want to move into the place so I e-mailed her as well. She's found out a couple of her friends are also looking to move so she's going to join forces with them. Good for her. So after my research I mailed the twat with the following:
From: Dhana
Sent: 28 September 2009 15:04
To: The Twat
Subject: RE: Tenants
Ok. I just got in touch with them both. Lou has e-mailed me saying she
has found some friends to move in within a couple of months so she
doesn't want the room.
Lucy is still keen to move in with you.
I need to meet the people I am going to move in with tomorrow to
finalise the references, deposit,dates, etc. Would be really good if we
can get it sorted before the end of the month mate. I would really
appreciate it.
Thanks,
Dhana
Civil, polite and succint I thought. And here is my reply:
From: The Twat
Sent: 28 September 2009
To: Dhana
Subject: RE: Tenants
I am doing it as fast as poss.....lucy was a bit wierd
The Twat
She is not weird you dumb, inconsiderate fuck.
You are the weird fucker. The weird bastard who wont screw the tops back onto the bottles, the dickhead who wont shut the fridge when he's done with it, the cunt who keeps nicking my food without so much as a "by your leave", the putrescent maggotshite who keeps leaving hairs in the bath, the wankfuck who is so deaf he has to listen to the telly at volumes that only people on the wrong side of ninety should need, the inconsiderate nincompoop who cannot understand that life is not about what you can get away with but about how you treat your fellow men, the hypocritical arselicker who is completely oblivious to all the stupid things you do constantly and will probably never realise.
That is what is weird. Not that poor, sweet, nervous girl whom you're rejecting because you have the power to do it.
If the Gods I believe in are real then one day you will get what you deserve. But people like you rarely do. You'll get everything you ever wanted, you'll never realise how much you hurt the people around you, but for one thing I thank the Gods, and it is that I will never, ever, ever, be like you.
Saturday, 26 September 2009
False Alarm?
The Twat has told me that he is going to interview Lucy and another girl who expressed interest in living here, Louise and make a decision.
He interviewed Lucy on Thursday. She tells me she feels she messed up and is probably not going to be chosen to live here. I'm glad in a way that she wont have to live here. She's too nice and the Twat will probably walk all over her if she does. You never know though, hidden depths and all that.
So I guess this will mean that Louise wins by default? I don't know, you probably have a better idea than I do because the Twat has not spoken to me since earlier this week. In the meantime numerous e-mails he has been copied in on to the estate agents trying to sort out what portion of the deposit needs to be returned to me have all gone unanswered by the Twat.
The petty vindictiveness he is displaying at me moving out is ridiculous. Perhaps he secrely has a crush on me?
Also, the underwear he's left on the dining table is still there. Fucking hypocrite.
He interviewed Lucy on Thursday. She tells me she feels she messed up and is probably not going to be chosen to live here. I'm glad in a way that she wont have to live here. She's too nice and the Twat will probably walk all over her if she does. You never know though, hidden depths and all that.
So I guess this will mean that Louise wins by default? I don't know, you probably have a better idea than I do because the Twat has not spoken to me since earlier this week. In the meantime numerous e-mails he has been copied in on to the estate agents trying to sort out what portion of the deposit needs to be returned to me have all gone unanswered by the Twat.
The petty vindictiveness he is displaying at me moving out is ridiculous. Perhaps he secrely has a crush on me?
Also, the underwear he's left on the dining table is still there. Fucking hypocrite.
Wednesday, 23 September 2009
Thievery Incorporated
I bake a lot. It's a fun hobby. I get to mix up some mushy things with sugar and butter, lick the spoon, stick it in the oven and it comes out like something from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I also like the finer things in life. Faced with the choice between buying a kilo of value chocolate and 100 grams of chocolate that is so fine it needs to be licked by a cat before it's fit for human consumption I will always choose the latter. The premise behind the baking is why pay someone an exorbitant amount of money to make something I can make better myself, and the latter, well, life's too short to eat value chocolate.
One of the things that should have set alarm bells ringing in my head when I moved in with the Twat was the things he bought to share would always be from the budget range. So while I was buying Twinings tea aged in an oak barrel that the Earl of Sandwich once puked in my flatmate would reciprocate with Somerfield Value teabags. I'd buy Boasters cookies (with real Belgian Chocolate Chips!) and he'd respond with Asda Value Digestives and so forth. I had a go at him about this once and his reaction was to sulk and then eat the rest of my cookies.
Since we fell out, the notion of sharing these nice things I get for myself on my meagre wages with this Twat is repulsive to me. I have my self respect and if I dislike someone I will go to great lengths to avoid being in their thrall. However, the Twat clearly does not feel this way. I arrived home today and there is one teabag left. I very much doubt the twat will buy tea that matches what he's been stealing from me to replace it. I also bought a new packet of biscuits the other day to use as the base for some baking. I changed my mind and made cupcakes instead of cheesecake so the biscuits weren't required. However, as soon as I reached into the cupboard to open the biscuits to have with my tea, guess what I found? Yup, the twat has opened the biscuits and had at them.
Do people like this ever realise how stupid they're being?
One of the things that should have set alarm bells ringing in my head when I moved in with the Twat was the things he bought to share would always be from the budget range. So while I was buying Twinings tea aged in an oak barrel that the Earl of Sandwich once puked in my flatmate would reciprocate with Somerfield Value teabags. I'd buy Boasters cookies (with real Belgian Chocolate Chips!) and he'd respond with Asda Value Digestives and so forth. I had a go at him about this once and his reaction was to sulk and then eat the rest of my cookies.
Since we fell out, the notion of sharing these nice things I get for myself on my meagre wages with this Twat is repulsive to me. I have my self respect and if I dislike someone I will go to great lengths to avoid being in their thrall. However, the Twat clearly does not feel this way. I arrived home today and there is one teabag left. I very much doubt the twat will buy tea that matches what he's been stealing from me to replace it. I also bought a new packet of biscuits the other day to use as the base for some baking. I changed my mind and made cupcakes instead of cheesecake so the biscuits weren't required. However, as soon as I reached into the cupboard to open the biscuits to have with my tea, guess what I found? Yup, the twat has opened the biscuits and had at them.
Do people like this ever realise how stupid they're being?
Tuesday, 22 September 2009
It's Like 10000 Twats
I got the following e-mail from the Twat today:
Dhana,
I have lou coming rd tonite at 7, can u pls make sure yr room is tidy and open the window to air it a little...
Cheers,
Firstly, a grown man who e-mails in text speak. What the fuck is that about?
Anyway, I sorted out my room and opened the window as requested. I do this before every viewing anyway, so a bit wankish of the Twat to try and imply I am unclean. He's the person who goes days without showering and still leaves fucking hairs in the bath.
So Lou comes to see the flat. She's no Lucy, but she'd probably be a good fit. She seems a bit feisty.
However, as soon as she leaves I see what the Twat has left on the dining table.
It is a shitload of underwear.
It has been there for at least two days.
Fucking rich of the Twat to ask me to clean my room when he cannot clean up his own washing.
Dhana,
I have lou coming rd tonite at 7, can u pls make sure yr room is tidy and open the window to air it a little...
Cheers,
Firstly, a grown man who e-mails in text speak. What the fuck is that about?
Anyway, I sorted out my room and opened the window as requested. I do this before every viewing anyway, so a bit wankish of the Twat to try and imply I am unclean. He's the person who goes days without showering and still leaves fucking hairs in the bath.
So Lou comes to see the flat. She's no Lucy, but she'd probably be a good fit. She seems a bit feisty.
However, as soon as she leaves I see what the Twat has left on the dining table.
It is a shitload of underwear.
It has been there for at least two days.
Fucking rich of the Twat to ask me to clean my room when he cannot clean up his own washing.
Monday, 21 September 2009
Handing Over
Well, the end seems to be in sight. That is unless the Twat doesn't try and perform any additional acts of sabotage.
He asked to take over the advert today. I'm beyond caring so I've handed it over. I've also been told by the agency that I'll need to give two month's notice to vacate this place so I've instructed them to proceed as though I've given them that notice.
The way I see it, he's got two choices. He picks someone he wants to live with from the ones I've chosen and sets up a new tenancy agreement with them. Else, I move out on the 1st of October to somewhere new, wait for the two months for them to return my deposit and let him rot.
However, I think the unreasonable bastard will probably want me to pay the agency fee to have a new contract drawn up. This is not happening. Worst case scenario, if I have to, then I will tough out the two remaining months of my notice here. I'm one of the most easygoing people you'll ever meet, but I can be an obstinate donkey if I put my mind to it.
He asked to take over the advert today. I'm beyond caring so I've handed it over. I've also been told by the agency that I'll need to give two month's notice to vacate this place so I've instructed them to proceed as though I've given them that notice.
The way I see it, he's got two choices. He picks someone he wants to live with from the ones I've chosen and sets up a new tenancy agreement with them. Else, I move out on the 1st of October to somewhere new, wait for the two months for them to return my deposit and let him rot.
However, I think the unreasonable bastard will probably want me to pay the agency fee to have a new contract drawn up. This is not happening. Worst case scenario, if I have to, then I will tough out the two remaining months of my notice here. I'm one of the most easygoing people you'll ever meet, but I can be an obstinate donkey if I put my mind to it.
Sunday, 20 September 2009
Foresight Is Terrible
I have just had an argument with the Twat.
It stopped just short of blows being thrown and him trying to shut the door in my face. It's safe to say there's a good chance that this guy is mentally unbalanced. The reason for the argument? He wants to charge whoever moves in an extra £100 to live in the room I want to vacate. This would mean they'd be paying the same rent as he would be for his much larger room. He is either a petty, vindictive thief, or delusional if he thinks someone would actually do that.
How do people like this live with themselves? Does he not realise that charging someone the same rent as he's paying for the larger room will cause resentment? There's also the small fact that nobody in their right mind would be willing to pay the rent he's asking for. I've looked around and for that amount of money you could live in somewhere much, much better than this and with sane people too.
This all makes arranging for the Twat to meet the people who've liked the flat difficult. I knew he'd try and sabotage me moving out, but I've got no idea why. He's clearly stated that he hates living with me, and he wants to veto whoever it is who moves in. I've acceded to the criteria that he wanted to impose so I'm really not seeing what the problem is. I wish he'd also mentioned that he wants to fleece them for the rent as well.
Oh, and get this. He says the rent I was paying was only what it was because it was a "favour" to me. When I mentioned to him that I'm actually paying £100 more than what I agreed to when we moved in initially he had no comment to it apart from that there would be other people willing to pay more money for this place. What a money grubbing cunt.
It stopped just short of blows being thrown and him trying to shut the door in my face. It's safe to say there's a good chance that this guy is mentally unbalanced. The reason for the argument? He wants to charge whoever moves in an extra £100 to live in the room I want to vacate. This would mean they'd be paying the same rent as he would be for his much larger room. He is either a petty, vindictive thief, or delusional if he thinks someone would actually do that.
How do people like this live with themselves? Does he not realise that charging someone the same rent as he's paying for the larger room will cause resentment? There's also the small fact that nobody in their right mind would be willing to pay the rent he's asking for. I've looked around and for that amount of money you could live in somewhere much, much better than this and with sane people too.
This all makes arranging for the Twat to meet the people who've liked the flat difficult. I knew he'd try and sabotage me moving out, but I've got no idea why. He's clearly stated that he hates living with me, and he wants to veto whoever it is who moves in. I've acceded to the criteria that he wanted to impose so I'm really not seeing what the problem is. I wish he'd also mentioned that he wants to fleece them for the rent as well.
Oh, and get this. He says the rent I was paying was only what it was because it was a "favour" to me. When I mentioned to him that I'm actually paying £100 more than what I agreed to when we moved in initially he had no comment to it apart from that there would be other people willing to pay more money for this place. What a money grubbing cunt.
Another Viewing
I had a voicemail from someone called Lucy today. She wants to come see the flat. She sounds like a sweet girl and I felt terribly bad when I heard her voicemail. It was the hesitant, scared and slightly awkward type. The type of voicemail I'd leave a girl when asking her out over the phone when I was fifteen. Except Lucy is looking for somewhere to live and not for a date.
I told the Twatmate that someone'd be over to see the flat at 6.00pm today. He didn't respond. No grunt, no okay, just nothing. He is now lying shirtless on the couch in the living room watching the football. I wonder if it's unreasonable of me to ask him to put a shirt on. I'd not wander around shirtless if a stranger were about to visit the flat, but maybe up north things are different? Fuck, I hate being a stranger in this country.
I hope Lucy does not have to live here with this twat, but hell, perhaps she'll break down and kill the wanker.
I told the Twatmate that someone'd be over to see the flat at 6.00pm today. He didn't respond. No grunt, no okay, just nothing. He is now lying shirtless on the couch in the living room watching the football. I wonder if it's unreasonable of me to ask him to put a shirt on. I'd not wander around shirtless if a stranger were about to visit the flat, but maybe up north things are different? Fuck, I hate being a stranger in this country.
I hope Lucy does not have to live here with this twat, but hell, perhaps she'll break down and kill the wanker.
The Prodigal Twatmate Returns
He is back from holiday and it looks like someone's forgotten their sunblock.
I even helped the moron bring his bag upstairs. I think he said thanks but I can't remember if he did or not. Maybe it's because I don't give a shit. Anyway, the advert's snared two people who both want to meet the twat.
I feel like he's going to sabotage this.
I asked him when he could meet them to sort something out and he refused to give me a date. This is fucked up. Why on earth am I jumping through all these hoops? Sure, I want to leave and it's my responsibility to find someone to move in here after I leave, but I could just as easily withold the rent for a month and then just move the fuck out. I've gone to all the effort of trying to find someone who will genuinely be a good flatmate and now the end is in sight the twat is being really unhelpful. This is a wee bit out of order if you ask me.
The two people who came to see the room seemed really lovely. One of them is a sweet girl who works in marketing, but works for the same company I work for, so this could possibly disqualify her because I don't want her to come running to me when the twatmate upsets her. The other is German, 'nuff said Jah?
The latter is probably a better candidate as she seems quite strong willed and will not put up with the twat's shite, but I have a feeling that if he were to meet either one of them, then he'd choose the former. I think I may not tell him about her to avoid any unpleasantness at work. Does this make me A Bad Person?
Oh, also, I had a wee bit of last minute doubt about moving out of here after cleaning up the place. The new place I'm going to be moving into has no dishwasher and the room is also smaller. It does seem like it has more storage space though. However, when a polite request to the twat to turn down the shite TV he was playing at earsplitting volume yielded a reply of "I've only got it up so loud because you two are chatting so loudly" I was reminded double quick about why I'm getting the fuck out. That and the fact that it will cost me £200 a month less and allow me to live with some people who actually seem decent.
I even helped the moron bring his bag upstairs. I think he said thanks but I can't remember if he did or not. Maybe it's because I don't give a shit. Anyway, the advert's snared two people who both want to meet the twat.
I feel like he's going to sabotage this.
I asked him when he could meet them to sort something out and he refused to give me a date. This is fucked up. Why on earth am I jumping through all these hoops? Sure, I want to leave and it's my responsibility to find someone to move in here after I leave, but I could just as easily withold the rent for a month and then just move the fuck out. I've gone to all the effort of trying to find someone who will genuinely be a good flatmate and now the end is in sight the twat is being really unhelpful. This is a wee bit out of order if you ask me.
The two people who came to see the room seemed really lovely. One of them is a sweet girl who works in marketing, but works for the same company I work for, so this could possibly disqualify her because I don't want her to come running to me when the twatmate upsets her. The other is German, 'nuff said Jah?
The latter is probably a better candidate as she seems quite strong willed and will not put up with the twat's shite, but I have a feeling that if he were to meet either one of them, then he'd choose the former. I think I may not tell him about her to avoid any unpleasantness at work. Does this make me A Bad Person?
Oh, also, I had a wee bit of last minute doubt about moving out of here after cleaning up the place. The new place I'm going to be moving into has no dishwasher and the room is also smaller. It does seem like it has more storage space though. However, when a polite request to the twat to turn down the shite TV he was playing at earsplitting volume yielded a reply of "I've only got it up so loud because you two are chatting so loudly" I was reminded double quick about why I'm getting the fuck out. That and the fact that it will cost me £200 a month less and allow me to live with some people who actually seem decent.
Saturday, 19 September 2009
Guilt
Well, alea jacta est.
People have begun to call about the flat already. I've got one viewing for this evening at six and another person has e-mailed expressing interest in the place. I'm starting to feel guilty about this as they both seem nice from the limited interaction I've had with them.
I've always lived with friends or a partner ever since I moved out of home. I've lived with randoms once, and to be honest, the easiest living experience I had was with the randoms. A cleaner came round once a week to clean away the mess. Sure, some people took the piss with the washing up, but a few days later it would be sorted out. There wasn't the disappointment you feel when living with friends about the mess they've made and having to clean up after them. I honestly think this may work out better for the Twat. He may learn something about living with a random. Or will his twattiness drive them away in 10 seconds flat? For his sake I hope it's the former, but I'll believe that when I see it. I'm not holding out much hope, but I'm feeling a wee bit guilty about foisting him on a poor, unsuspecting person.
Or it's because they're both women and they're probably going to be hot? This is London after all. Actually, it's just a viewing, they may just hate the place and not want to move in after all.
People have begun to call about the flat already. I've got one viewing for this evening at six and another person has e-mailed expressing interest in the place. I'm starting to feel guilty about this as they both seem nice from the limited interaction I've had with them.
I've always lived with friends or a partner ever since I moved out of home. I've lived with randoms once, and to be honest, the easiest living experience I had was with the randoms. A cleaner came round once a week to clean away the mess. Sure, some people took the piss with the washing up, but a few days later it would be sorted out. There wasn't the disappointment you feel when living with friends about the mess they've made and having to clean up after them. I honestly think this may work out better for the Twat. He may learn something about living with a random. Or will his twattiness drive them away in 10 seconds flat? For his sake I hope it's the former, but I'll believe that when I see it. I'm not holding out much hope, but I'm feeling a wee bit guilty about foisting him on a poor, unsuspecting person.
Or it's because they're both women and they're probably going to be hot? This is London after all. Actually, it's just a viewing, they may just hate the place and not want to move in after all.
Moving Out
It's finally happened.
I've found some people who'd like me to live with them. I've put up an advert on Gumtree for the room I'm currently living in. Now I just need to wait for the suckers to bite. If they don't, well, tough.
Here's where I live in.
The kitchen in this place was amazing. The oven was fan assisted, at eye level and lit. Perfection for any sort of baking. I'd like to think I made good use of it.
I take no responsibility for that horrible, fucking rug. It is a monstrosity. As if "the wicked picture" of a silhouetted woman weren't tacky enough, my twatmate purchased this rug so the living room would scream "MID LIFE CRISIS" even louder than his carefully dyed hair.
Well, some magic did happen there. But not enough for it to be worth what I paid for it. Plus it was right next to the shitter so being woken up by my flatmate making a deposit wasn't fun.
Here's a link to the advert I put up for this place. Note that I have lied extensively about my flatmate. If I were being truthful this would read something along the lines of the following:
I am moving out of this room because my twatmate who has been fleecing me for renting this shithole of a room has forced me to move out. If you move in you can expect to live with a vain, narcissistic, homophobic, unhygienic, inconsiderate, argumentative, uncompromising, hypocritical cunt.
The cunt will fleece you for bills. He currently has me subsidising the Virgin+ box in his room and thinks I don't know it. The cunt eats my food and then lies about it. The cunt nicks my washing tabs and lies when confronted about it. The cunt also leaves hairs in the fucking bath despite me asking him several times not to. Basically, you will be living with a cunt and I hope you are as much of a cunt as this cunt so you can have some sort of cunt-off and wind up killing each other so this universe will have two less cunts. Don't forget I'll be rooting for you because I cannot imagine someone who's a bigger cunt than the one I live with and living in Britain has taught me to support the underdog.
I'm being optimistic, I know. But after all the shit I've had to go through this month I have been long overdue some good news and I am going to revel in this for as long as I can.
I've found some people who'd like me to live with them. I've put up an advert on Gumtree for the room I'm currently living in. Now I just need to wait for the suckers to bite. If they don't, well, tough.
Here's where I live in.
The Beautiful Kitchen
The kitchen in this place was amazing. The oven was fan assisted, at eye level and lit. Perfection for any sort of baking. I'd like to think I made good use of it.
Note The Shagpile Rug
I take no responsibility for that horrible, fucking rug. It is a monstrosity. As if "the wicked picture" of a silhouetted woman weren't tacky enough, my twatmate purchased this rug so the living room would scream "MID LIFE CRISIS" even louder than his carefully dyed hair.
This Is Where The Magic Happens
Well, some magic did happen there. But not enough for it to be worth what I paid for it. Plus it was right next to the shitter so being woken up by my flatmate making a deposit wasn't fun.
Here's a link to the advert I put up for this place. Note that I have lied extensively about my flatmate. If I were being truthful this would read something along the lines of the following:
I am moving out of this room because my twatmate who has been fleecing me for renting this shithole of a room has forced me to move out. If you move in you can expect to live with a vain, narcissistic, homophobic, unhygienic, inconsiderate, argumentative, uncompromising, hypocritical cunt.
The cunt will fleece you for bills. He currently has me subsidising the Virgin+ box in his room and thinks I don't know it. The cunt eats my food and then lies about it. The cunt nicks my washing tabs and lies when confronted about it. The cunt also leaves hairs in the fucking bath despite me asking him several times not to. Basically, you will be living with a cunt and I hope you are as much of a cunt as this cunt so you can have some sort of cunt-off and wind up killing each other so this universe will have two less cunts. Don't forget I'll be rooting for you because I cannot imagine someone who's a bigger cunt than the one I live with and living in Britain has taught me to support the underdog.
I'm being optimistic, I know. But after all the shit I've had to go through this month I have been long overdue some good news and I am going to revel in this for as long as I can.
Hilarious
I am bisexual.
Well, bi-curious.
Well, let's just say I've not been curious for a while. So I'm what is left over once the curiosity has been assuaged. I guess what I'm saying is even though strawberry is my favourite flavour if chocolate was all that was left in the freezer then I'd have some. My preference is definitely for strawberry. Especially strawberry with long blonde hair, pretty eyes and a great body. I had some strawberry like that once. I think her name was Laura. Yes, definitely Laura. I had some other strawberry that had short brown hair and was quite feisty, her name was Laura too. Anyway, I digress. Boarding school is probably why I don't mind chocolate. Well, boarding school and a very sexually liberal upbringing. Cheers Mum and Dad! I wonder what happened to my last scoop of chocolate. He's probably earning a crust in the city somewhere. Little rascal.
Someone in our circle of friends told the twatmate that I'd batted for both sides once. Apparently his reaction was absolute disbelief and they had to console him by lying to him and saying they were winding him up.
The other day I told him this was actually true. He was shocked. It started with me winding him up about it and saying I was considering bringing a man back home. He begged me not to bring a man back to the flat. This was his reason:
"Please don't bring a man back. I am not homophobic, but the thought of men having sex is repulsive to me."
He said this with a completely straight face. The definition of homophobia in the dictionary is fear or contempt of homosexuals and homosexual practices. Perhaps they use a different dictionary in the north?
Well, bi-curious.
Well, let's just say I've not been curious for a while. So I'm what is left over once the curiosity has been assuaged. I guess what I'm saying is even though strawberry is my favourite flavour if chocolate was all that was left in the freezer then I'd have some. My preference is definitely for strawberry. Especially strawberry with long blonde hair, pretty eyes and a great body. I had some strawberry like that once. I think her name was Laura. Yes, definitely Laura. I had some other strawberry that had short brown hair and was quite feisty, her name was Laura too. Anyway, I digress. Boarding school is probably why I don't mind chocolate. Well, boarding school and a very sexually liberal upbringing. Cheers Mum and Dad! I wonder what happened to my last scoop of chocolate. He's probably earning a crust in the city somewhere. Little rascal.
Someone in our circle of friends told the twatmate that I'd batted for both sides once. Apparently his reaction was absolute disbelief and they had to console him by lying to him and saying they were winding him up.
The other day I told him this was actually true. He was shocked. It started with me winding him up about it and saying I was considering bringing a man back home. He begged me not to bring a man back to the flat. This was his reason:
"Please don't bring a man back. I am not homophobic, but the thought of men having sex is repulsive to me."
He said this with a completely straight face. The definition of homophobia in the dictionary is fear or contempt of homosexuals and homosexual practices. Perhaps they use a different dictionary in the north?
Tuesday, 15 September 2009
Should I Stay Or Should I Go
Salmonella Anyone?
This is foil wrapping the wire rack that sits on top of the grill. I found this when I wanted to use the oven the other day. Apparently it's alright to keep using the foil despite having cooked meat and other things repeatedly on it. Possibly a lifetime of this practice has made my Twatmate immune to anything that can cause food poisoning?
Anyway, should I stay or should I go now?
I'm back from some more festivalling. My flatmate is away on holiday so I picked this time to stay home and do some revising. I've now told him I'm not happy staying here and I want to move out but it is going to be difficult because he wants someone else to move in and replace me. I offered to put up an ad on Gumtree but he wants to veto them. There is no chance of anyone who'd put up with him living here, as my flatmate interviewing someone to be a replacement flatmate would be like Alan Sugar interviewing someone to be the next person he fires. Plus, my room is basically a boiler cupboard and having had a look at what else is available there is no chance anyone is going to move in here and pay the same money I'm paying. This means I will not be able to put a deposit down on a new place even if I were to find one because my twatmate will need to find a sucker to move in here first before he will return my deposit.
I'm going to advertise the room while he's away and see what kind of interest it generates. If I can find someone stupid enough to move in then at least I'll have something to work with. If there's no interest then I can indicate this to him and tell him I'm going to be reducing my rent payment by a certain amount to reflect this. Let's see how it goes.
So, to recap, I dislike my flatmate today as he is an unhygeinic twat and he is being an ungracious wanker about letting me move out.
Monday, 7 September 2009
It's Time
Tonight I'm going to attempt to have "The Talk" with my flatmate.
I'm not looking forward to it. The guy's actually been nice to me over the past couple of days or so. He's also going on holiday fairly soon so I guess he's got something to look forward to.
I need to look for somewhere else to live. I like this flat, but I cannot keep living in a glorified boiler room with no heating that I pay a fortune for and have to tiptoe around every second of the day and have to listen to crap telly for most of the time.
My flatmate is a good person, but I don't think he's a good flatmate. Ultimately this is why I want to get out of here. Plus not paying a small fortune would be nice too.
I'm not looking forward to it. The guy's actually been nice to me over the past couple of days or so. He's also going on holiday fairly soon so I guess he's got something to look forward to.
I need to look for somewhere else to live. I like this flat, but I cannot keep living in a glorified boiler room with no heating that I pay a fortune for and have to tiptoe around every second of the day and have to listen to crap telly for most of the time.
My flatmate is a good person, but I don't think he's a good flatmate. Ultimately this is why I want to get out of here. Plus not paying a small fortune would be nice too.
Monday, 31 August 2009
Degrading
I like music. More to the point, I like music festivals. They're great. Loads of girls, good music and liquor. I'm recovering from 2 days of festivalling. I woke up feeling ridiculously tired and despite having been up for a couple of hours am now contemplating going back to sleep.
Anyway, for some reason, my twatmate (I think flatmate is too polite) has come into my room and put a notebook of mine and a pencil inside. I asked him what was going on and he wordlessly left the room. I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with him. Perhaps he is finally going mental.
Is it wrong to leave a notebook in the kitchen? I don't think so, but I have no idea what his problem with it being there is. Also, he got drunk the night before, came back home with no recollection of what happened and accused me of leaving washing up on the side of the counter. Something I'm pretty sure I didn't do. There's no point arguing with him so I didn't.
Let's see if today brings any good news.
Anyway, for some reason, my twatmate (I think flatmate is too polite) has come into my room and put a notebook of mine and a pencil inside. I asked him what was going on and he wordlessly left the room. I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with him. Perhaps he is finally going mental.
Is it wrong to leave a notebook in the kitchen? I don't think so, but I have no idea what his problem with it being there is. Also, he got drunk the night before, came back home with no recollection of what happened and accused me of leaving washing up on the side of the counter. Something I'm pretty sure I didn't do. There's no point arguing with him so I didn't.
Let's see if today brings any good news.
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
Voluminous Hate
Some quick pre-bedtime hate.
My flatmate is possibly deaf or enjoys watching things at a loud volume.
For some reason he is watching some shit about Booze Britain or something equally puerile on the telly. I've asked him to turn it down, but I can still hear the crap and I'm wearing some pretty heavy duty headphones.
So, he has bad taste in TV and plays things really loudly. The worst of both combinations. I wouldn't mind if I were woken up to the sounds of Passion Pit on our superb 7.1 channel audio setup (I know, I know, stereo is what music is meant to be played on, but fuck it, let's have some variety eh?), but Booze Britain before you go to bed? Why would you do that to yourself?
Anyway, the muffins will be done in a second. Mmmm...muffins!
My flatmate is possibly deaf or enjoys watching things at a loud volume.
For some reason he is watching some shit about Booze Britain or something equally puerile on the telly. I've asked him to turn it down, but I can still hear the crap and I'm wearing some pretty heavy duty headphones.
So, he has bad taste in TV and plays things really loudly. The worst of both combinations. I wouldn't mind if I were woken up to the sounds of Passion Pit on our superb 7.1 channel audio setup (I know, I know, stereo is what music is meant to be played on, but fuck it, let's have some variety eh?), but Booze Britain before you go to bed? Why would you do that to yourself?
Anyway, the muffins will be done in a second. Mmmm...muffins!
Crap Weather Crap Flatmate
It's raining that fine rain that soaks you right through your clothes.
Anyway, I came back today to my flatmate complaining that I've not put away the utensils and plates I'd washed up and that I'd also not dumped the recycling that he'd so considerately left in a sack in front of my room.
Oh how I laughed.
The pots I'd washed up were ones he'd dirtied! How funny! The recycling cannot be put out because the idiot will not read what can and cannot be recycled and has dumped all sorts of shit into the bag. This means it may as well be garbage because I am not going to re-sort it. I've done this too many times already.
Perhaps and end to my tribulations is at hand. I may even find out tomorrow night!
Anyway, I came back today to my flatmate complaining that I've not put away the utensils and plates I'd washed up and that I'd also not dumped the recycling that he'd so considerately left in a sack in front of my room.
Oh how I laughed.
The pots I'd washed up were ones he'd dirtied! How funny! The recycling cannot be put out because the idiot will not read what can and cannot be recycled and has dumped all sorts of shit into the bag. This means it may as well be garbage because I am not going to re-sort it. I've done this too many times already.
Perhaps and end to my tribulations is at hand. I may even find out tomorrow night!
Monday, 24 August 2009
The Mind Bog-gles
Some quick hate tonight.
Today my flatmate has displayed his twattery by not replacing the bog roll.
When we moved in I suggested that we perhaps get a house joint account sorted into which we'd pay x amount of money per month which would get used for house things. Like bog roll, milk, eggs, kitchen roll etc. This was met dismissively with a "we'll sort it out".
Did it get sorted out? Did it fuck.
My flatmate has now come back from fucking off home for a couple of days and has returned and despite knowing full well that there is no bog roll he is refusing to get any. I have gotten some but it's in the kitchen. Perhaps if he makes his way up there he will find it the lazy wanker.
He has also given me some bonus inconsideration points by using up nearly all the olive oil to deep fry something. Fuck knows why. Only a retard would use olive oil to deep fry something. He has an infuriating habit of not screwing the lids shut on the bottles he uses meaning if by chance they tip over there will be a giant leak. This has happened not once, not twice, but three fucking times. Each time with olive oil, balsamic vinegar and malt vinegar. He has also dropped a shitload of pepper corns onto the mixture meaning they are stuck to the cupboard surface and cannot be removed despite my best efforts.
The end is once again in sight. Let's see what happens this time.
Today my flatmate has displayed his twattery by not replacing the bog roll.
When we moved in I suggested that we perhaps get a house joint account sorted into which we'd pay x amount of money per month which would get used for house things. Like bog roll, milk, eggs, kitchen roll etc. This was met dismissively with a "we'll sort it out".
Did it get sorted out? Did it fuck.
My flatmate has now come back from fucking off home for a couple of days and has returned and despite knowing full well that there is no bog roll he is refusing to get any. I have gotten some but it's in the kitchen. Perhaps if he makes his way up there he will find it the lazy wanker.
He has also given me some bonus inconsideration points by using up nearly all the olive oil to deep fry something. Fuck knows why. Only a retard would use olive oil to deep fry something. He has an infuriating habit of not screwing the lids shut on the bottles he uses meaning if by chance they tip over there will be a giant leak. This has happened not once, not twice, but three fucking times. Each time with olive oil, balsamic vinegar and malt vinegar. He has also dropped a shitload of pepper corns onto the mixture meaning they are stuck to the cupboard surface and cannot be removed despite my best efforts.
The end is once again in sight. Let's see what happens this time.
Saturday, 15 August 2009
Nothing Can Compare...
...to when you roll the dice and you say I don't have to live here anymore.
Apologies to Finley Quaye.
I looked for somewhere a few days ago. It was the first, and only place I've looked at. The only reason for looking at it was to see what was out there and bizarrely, I was the first person to call about the place. "Weird", I thought to myself, "hundreds of people must have asked about this place". It was a nice room in a decent part of CJ (Clapham Junction for the uninitiated) so naturally I thought there must be a catch of some sort. I went for the viewing not really knowing what to expect, but bizarrely it was great!
Good points are:
I'll know what is to happen on Wednesday. If it falls through, then tough, however, the girl who's vacating the place has assured me that her flatmates like me and they're only conducting more viewings out of obligation and the place is pretty much in the bag. I'll hang on to my skepticism and believe it when it does happen, but for now I am being cautiously optimistic.
Oh, and the reason my flatmate has pissed me off today is because he has put a wet spoon in my caster sugar meaning I have to put off doing my baking till tomorrow. The stupid twat.
Apologies to Finley Quaye.
I looked for somewhere a few days ago. It was the first, and only place I've looked at. The only reason for looking at it was to see what was out there and bizarrely, I was the first person to call about the place. "Weird", I thought to myself, "hundreds of people must have asked about this place". It was a nice room in a decent part of CJ (Clapham Junction for the uninitiated) so naturally I thought there must be a catch of some sort. I went for the viewing not really knowing what to expect, but bizarrely it was great!
Good points are:
- Gigantic room compared to what I'm living in now. I may actually be able to bring down my book collection!
- I'd pay less than the small fortune I'm currently paying.
- The people I would be sharing with seem lovely.
- Kitchen is not gigantic like it currently is
- Smaller living room
- Balcony is not as nice as it is in the current place
I'll know what is to happen on Wednesday. If it falls through, then tough, however, the girl who's vacating the place has assured me that her flatmates like me and they're only conducting more viewings out of obligation and the place is pretty much in the bag. I'll hang on to my skepticism and believe it when it does happen, but for now I am being cautiously optimistic.
Oh, and the reason my flatmate has pissed me off today is because he has put a wet spoon in my caster sugar meaning I have to put off doing my baking till tomorrow. The stupid twat.
Sunday, 9 August 2009
Coming To A Head
So last night I had to have a chat with my flatmate. His idea, not mine.
He is not happy with me disrespecting him. Apparently when I asked him why he couldn't do something his own fucking self last week I was being out of order. Whoops.
I'm not sure I can salvage anything out of this friendship/living arrangement. He's now clearly not happy living with me. I reckon I can find someone easier to live with and pay less for it. I've started looking and made a phone call today inquiring into it. Let's see how it pans out.
I'll be happy to leave with my deposit intact to be honest. As fabulous as this flat is I'm not sure I can do this for much longer.
It's time to roll the dice again.
He is not happy with me disrespecting him. Apparently when I asked him why he couldn't do something his own fucking self last week I was being out of order. Whoops.
I'm not sure I can salvage anything out of this friendship/living arrangement. He's now clearly not happy living with me. I reckon I can find someone easier to live with and pay less for it. I've started looking and made a phone call today inquiring into it. Let's see how it pans out.
I'll be happy to leave with my deposit intact to be honest. As fabulous as this flat is I'm not sure I can do this for much longer.
It's time to roll the dice again.
Sunday, 26 July 2009
Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fungi
My flatmate has left for a couple of weeks to venture back up North where he was spawned.
I lived in a state of bliss for a few days and even started to miss him for a bit. Fortunately, in his infinite kindness he left me something to remember him by.
In case you cannot tell, it used to be some of Somerfield's finest cheddar which was tastefully hidden on the top shelf of the fridge. I am not a tall man so imagine how pleasantly surprised I was when my questing hands clutched this.
This is an obviously out of date onion. It is so out of date it has begun to liquefy.
And this used to be a lettuce.
He gets back on Wednesday. I cannot wait!
I lived in a state of bliss for a few days and even started to miss him for a bit. Fortunately, in his infinite kindness he left me something to remember him by.
In case you cannot tell, it used to be some of Somerfield's finest cheddar which was tastefully hidden on the top shelf of the fridge. I am not a tall man so imagine how pleasantly surprised I was when my questing hands clutched this.
This is an obviously out of date onion. It is so out of date it has begun to liquefy.
And this used to be a lettuce.
He gets back on Wednesday. I cannot wait!
Tuesday, 14 July 2009
Still Sulking...
It has been close to a week and my flatmate is still not speaking to me. I even asked the ingrate if he wanted a cup of tea yesterday which he declined.
I honestly don't know what his problem is.
I'll update this blog biweekly and aim for at least two pictures a week so it's interesting to those of you who don't read so good and don't know how to do other stuff good too.
Oh, and a saucepan from yesterday is still on the side of the kitchen.
I honestly don't know what his problem is.
I'll update this blog biweekly and aim for at least two pictures a week so it's interesting to those of you who don't read so good and don't know how to do other stuff good too.
Oh, and a saucepan from yesterday is still on the side of the kitchen.
Wednesday, 8 July 2009
24 Hours Later
The manky baking tray is still where it was last night and fuck knows if the moron is going to clean it up.
Look at those crumbs. He must have had toast, or crumbs for tea and dropped a few.
Also, the dishwasher which I turned on two days ago has still not been unloaded.
I honestly wouldn't mind his attitude to these things but the double standard makes me seethe. Well, for about two seconds, it's funny after that. Even worse, he is now sulking at me. I found him asleep in his underwear on the sofa. He heard me come in, waited till I'd gone upstairs so he wouldn't have to talk to me and then went into his room. He is over 10 years older than me and is behaving like a little child.
Sigh...
Tuesday, 7 July 2009
How I Hate Living With You
Here I will count (list) the ways.
My flatmate and I were friends before we moved in together. I now detest living with him. Unfortunately I do not detest living with him enough to move out of here because:
First, let me give you some background on why I've created this.
My flatmate thinks he is tidy
Is he fuck.
When my flatmate says he is tidy he means he is basically able to ignore the mess he makes while magnifying the mess I make times a thousand. He will leave a mess on the worktops in the kitchen behind for me to clean up but if I were to leave a single pot overnight in the kitchen then he will go ballistic. For example, I once left a mound of pepper he'd spilt on the chopping board to see how long it would take for him to clean it up. A week later, I cleaned it up when I cleaned the kitchen.
Other things he does that piss me off cleanliness wise are:
Socially, the following things piss me off:
My flatmate and I were friends before we moved in together. I now detest living with him. Unfortunately I do not detest living with him enough to move out of here because:
- It is amazingly convenient for work and London in general
- It is a gorgeous flat
- Things change and he becomes a decent person to live with
- I move out
First, let me give you some background on why I've created this.
My flatmate thinks he is tidy
Is he fuck.
When my flatmate says he is tidy he means he is basically able to ignore the mess he makes while magnifying the mess I make times a thousand. He will leave a mess on the worktops in the kitchen behind for me to clean up but if I were to leave a single pot overnight in the kitchen then he will go ballistic. For example, I once left a mound of pepper he'd spilt on the chopping board to see how long it would take for him to clean it up. A week later, I cleaned it up when I cleaned the kitchen.
Other things he does that piss me off cleanliness wise are:
- Leaving hairs in the bath. Personally I do not care, but it is not the done thing so he should clean up behind him. I've told him several times but he does not seem to have understood that he needs to wait for the bath to drain before cleaning it.
- He leaves packaging from groceries lying around.
- If it's inconvenient to get rid of packaging he will shove it into the nearest cupboard. Out of sight, out of mind eh?
Socially, the following things piss me off:
- He has no tact. I cannot count the number of times I've had to make peace with women he has offended by leching at when we've been on a night out. Even worse, he will not leave me in peace with the girls who seem interested in me. For example, I met a great girl on Friday night and he came over and could not pick up on the fact that we wanted him to go away at all. Eventually she had to leave with her friend whom he'd managed to offend earlier in the night, cheers for the cockblock mate!
- He has shown up while I was on a date because he wanted to know if I could pick up some bread from the shops. He walked into my room while I was having sex with someone and asked to know where his towel was - in his boxers. The poor girl was so frightened that it took a championship level effort in sweet talking to stop her leaving the flat then and there.
- He told my cousin who was visiting that there was a great view up her skirt when she was on the stairs while he was underneath them.
- There is a bunch of cutlery in the sink which does not need to be there. We have a dishwasher for fuck's sake.
- There is a manky baking tray with water in it by the side of the sink. Once again, we have a dishwasher for fuck's sake.
- He has left the speaker cable he bought to wire up the new speakers in the lounge. This would not be tolerated were it me who'd done it.
- There is a tacky as fuck picture with a silhouette of a woman in heels filled in with what looks like Andy Warhol's acid nightmare. I told him I did not like it but he's gotten it and hung it up in the lounge the cunt.
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