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Dreadful Nonsense

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


Flatmates. I hate looking for flatmates. Hate it. With a capital Hate.

We've had a grand total of four people come look at the flat, out of the seven people that rang to say that they'd be coming. Another five were dismissed on the strength of the sentence "I'm ringing about the room to rent", for various reasons like they're foreign and male. What? Don't judge me - I have to live with them, not you.

I was quite excited about one of the girls that came yesterday, because she seemed quite nice, and I thought we'd get along, and she did give the impression that she liked the flat. Unfortunately, she didn't like it as much as another flat, and she rang back last night to say thanks but no thanks. Today, a bloke came over, and he seemed quite nice, and slightly older than I'd imagine a student would be, but... I've done the living with boys things. Check archives from last September through June to see how successful that was. I don't want to live with a platonic boy, that way lies madness and discomfort and unspoken tension and... feh. It's no fun.

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