<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d3200994\x26blogName\x3dDreadful+Nonsense\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://shazzle.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_GB\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://shazzle.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d7615377689624956874', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson


As Sir Paul McCartney once so wisely sang, “She’s leaving home, bye bye”. A few weeks ago, myself and Edel had a long chat, and we decided that it would be best if she left the flat and me because, frankly, I couldn’t stand the sight of her any longer. She agreed that she was a burden upon me and my life, and with the merest of whimpers, she set the date for her departure as 28th February, as it seemed as good a day as any to bugger off and leave me alone.

That’s right. The above paragraph is me putting a brave face on the fact that my lickle sister doesn’t love me anymore, and has decided to move on for bigger and better adventures in the tiny English village of London town. Myself and Edinburgh – indeed, the whole of Scotland – will have to learn to live without her.

Since the date was set, the slow realisation that I’ll have to do another damn flatmate search has filled with a kind of rumbling despair that I have only experienced in the run-up to Spanish classes in the 1st year of secondary school. Last June, I undertook this gargantuan task, and at that point I didn’t care about who moved in, so long as someone did. This time round, I’m expected to live with whatever piece of flotsam comes spinning through the door, and will have to live with them for at least six months. Six months of living with a stranger. How my heart leaps with apathy and a mild echo of dread.

Because it entertained me so much last time, I shall be keeping an account of all the people that come through the door during the flat inspection until we pick a lucky winner – and you can help me chose, if you like. The advert will appear on 14th February, so hopefully the fun will start quite soon after.

This entry was posted on 06 February 2003 at 1:23 pm. 0 comments

0 Comments:

Post a Comment