Get me outta here.

That last post felt like cheating since I wrote about the South and this is a blog about London.  I'll make up for it here.

Our flat is LIT-erally (Larnie) falling apart.  It's absurd how much is broken.  At first it was one of those things that gives the place character - just like the throne toilet and the tiny kitchen, the first things to break gave the flat some of it's endearing charm.  Alright, maybe the television requires a cryptic combination of buttons and keystrokes to turn it on, and perhaps Jessica's shelf in the refrigerator has been so overtaken by a glacier of ice that it has absorbed a jar of green pesto.  Maybe have to leave a note on the front door for the parcel-delivery men to call me to let them in because our doorbell has never ever worked.  So what if the oven has stopped working and the washing machine sounds like a rocket ship preparing for blast off during its final spin cycle?  These things are luxuries.

But I'd have to say the final straw was yesterday when I got out of the bath and the shower head broke clear off of the hose.  I had the damn thing stuck precariously on the shower-holder - which is the only way to rig it up there ever since Benjamin effed it all up from being so tall - and when I was getting out I heard a crash-BANG and turned around to see the head, decapitated, lying in the bath, and the hose, naked, spitting out the remains of my shower on the bathroom floor.  AGHHHH!!!!  I heard Jessica make a noise of concern out in  the common room and then was launched into an uncontrollable gigglefit (Larnie).  You get to a point where so much is going wrong that it's just hilarious.

I'm aware we can't really get upset about half of the stuff that has broken because technically it's not even ours, we were just lucky enough to move into a flat that already had many of the amenities.  Like the TV and dvd player - but don't even ask about the weird magic tricks that are required to simply play a dvd.  Or like the vacuum - it, too, has been decapitated, poor thing.  We haven't had a kettle for months because Jess and I invited over some idiot who tried to make soup in it (???).  These are all things that we would normally just replace, but we're all moving out in a month - why bother?

Unfortunately I think our landlord is feeling the same way. We're all moving out in a month, how much effort is he really going to put into a flat which has already paid its last month's rent?  I haven't attempted a shower yet but I'm about to have to in a few hours time.  Jessica has pointed out that I'll be hosing myself down like an animal. Thank you, Jessica.