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.
Monday, 31 August 2009
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.
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