See, hideous.
After two month of living the high life in my parent’s cozy little house in upstate New York, with a committed slave to wash my clothes, make my dinner, and clean up after me (my mother), I am now back in Squallyoaks, and it’s fucking hell.
I don’t know if it’s because I’ve become accustomed to a life of luxury, or if it’s just that my memory of what our squat used to look like is completely warped, but I swear it was never this bad. The place is a fucking heath hazard. I feel like I’m going to AIDS just looking at the photos of it. There are giant piles of garbage everywhere. Everywhere you go smells like mold. Most of the windows are broken so the entire house is freezing. There are empty tubes of toilet paper with poop on them in a bathroom garbage can from when the toilet paper ran out and people got desperate. It’s like something off Intervention.
And to make the whole situation just that tiny bit easier, in the two months that I was away my sheets, my duvet, my heater and my light bulb were all stolen out of my room. So now my room is basically just a dark, damp, freezing pit of sorrow with a bare mattress lying on the floor in the corner. Also, though I didn’t think it was possible, all the people I live with seem to have grown uglier over the Christmas holiday. Despair. It’s not looking good.
So, in light of this tragedy, after two years of living in the notorious Squallyoaks, I think it’s finally time to say goodbye. For my sanity. At the moment I’m squatting my boyfriend’s bedroom. It’s great. I feel very domesticated. Doing normal people things can be fun- going to the supermarket, taking showers, using toilet paper, opening the refrigerator without having to plug your nose. My eyes have been opened to the wonders of normality, and I like what I see. Now I just have to get a juicer and one of those tiny little phones that fit in your ear so you can have your hands free to make lots of hand gestures while you’re talking, and I’ll be all set.
Ick, it looks absolutely horrid and disgusting.
Yeah, that’s basically what my old flat used to look like, but I used to add to the fun by leaving the sharp knifes pointed upwards in the hope my flatmates seriously hurt themselves. P.s. Mission completed
Noooo! Don’t leave squallyoaks. Your adventures make my day!
hello my dear if one would like a poster and lives in london i could meet you in soho or the east and give you one(so to speak)email me at robertrubbish@gmail.combest wishes robert
hello just sent you an email by misstake i get confussed with this blogging lark anyway best wishes robert
I’m so glad you’ve finally come to your senses.dev.
it’s called a blue-tooth.
This makes me happy I don’t live in Squallyoaks anymore. Seriously would’ve freaked out.
You have to get an equally exciting place. Minus the filth.
guh. good god. if not aids — definitely various forms of bacterial infections. is it possible for your kitchen to cause yeast infections?
wait just one minute this is more than a little hypocritical lady!! are you or are you not the slob generations answer to hansel and gretel leaving a trail or filth and rubbish in you wake?? step down into the gutter where you belong xx
Ah! Dominic, bluntly, fuck off!
WTF i’m talking to karly my house mate! jog on you creep
Ahhh! I was just going along with the banter… but I shall keep jogging!
p.s living with 12 people in any building things do get rank when these picks were taken squally was at its lowest! its now clean (well as much as its going to be) .we have a slave we found on gumtree starting next week who is going clean squally from top to bottom, fix all the little fuck ups we create weekly and paint the walls!! all for the price of being spat on and called a twat by the girls of the house!!why have a cleaning router when you can have a 28 year old barrister!!!