Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Apologies are needed...

I said a story would be posted, but that hasn't happened, and for once, not from my own laziness. After reporting signs of damp to the landlady, she promptly popped around and figured it might be coming in from the loft and that she'd be back on the monday. As promised she turned up, in tow was her father. She went to check the water cistern thingy-ma-bob in the place where nightmares are spawn, and whislt she was at that task I watched as her father went about tearing the wallpaper off the walls in our bedrrom checking for damp, (I decorated this year) so I was stunned and brow scratching. Then whilst unnatended some more he decided he liked hammers more than my bedroom ceiling and the wall itself and took it to task. At which point I ushered in the Landlady and asked if the place would be habitable. She was more than a little annoyed at the work he had set himself to.

So now we come home, cook in the kitchen, watch television in the lounge, have a whirlwind keep ourselves cosy and now go down two flights of stairs to sleep in another flat. Hence me not sticking to me word, but I've got some nice pictures for you to look at.

But it shall faze me not, nor will I mention the landlords in name, nor by company, because the landlady has been so apologetic, it's not her fault, just don't bring your dad to fucking work, nor out to pasture, bolt-gun and be done...

I'm on the second stage of nicotine patches, reckon the tobacco industry has meddled. 


  1. Reminds me of the time, long ago, when I came back to my bachelor apartment after a Christmas break with the family, to find my ceiling in the bathtub. Eight weeks of showering and shaving at the gym later... all was well. Turns out the folks above me had gone on holiday too - and couldn't be bothered to turn off their tap. (How does that even happen? "No honey. Get out here. Come on. No, fuck your clothes, we're going to Vegas. NOW."

    Sorry to hear 'bout your wreckage, but good on ya for the quitting. All shall be well and all shall be well, and have a pint, and all shall be better.

  2. Oh no! Will it be sorted by Christmas? I trust there will be a new 'arrangement' over rental payments?
    I wonder if relations are somewhat 'strained' between your landlady and her destruction-mode father?!
    Hope it all gets sorted, pronto :-/