So, the house wot we want to buy is, understandably, back on the market. So much for their Esatanist Agent reassuring us that there was no pressure and that the vendor was happy to wait. Oh, I don’t blmae them at all. I’d have done it myself, and probably a lot sooner!

So, we’re well and truly right back to square one; after 6 whole months of stress we have absolutely sod all to show for it. Actually, that’s not quite true: still have a very nice flat which is always being cleaned and certain items being replaced/made better. I even bought a “new” shower off eBay, which arrived today, and I know a very good plumber wot’ll fit it for about £45. I think the next thing to do will be to re-tile the bathroom, cos that’s a doddle. Oh, alright, perhaps replacing the old bath should be the next thing, then the sink/bog, then the tiling. Kitchen after that

See, the thing is, if we do all these nice things to the flat, what’s the point of moving at all? Or, by the time we’ve done all this stuff, maybe the market will have picked up again and we’ll get a buyer (a proper one!) in no time.

Ah well.

‹Has no beer. Payday is tomorrow. Bollocks.›

Got a call from the Esatanist Agent for the people selling us a house: they’re still happy to wait for us to get a new buyer, so no real pressure from that end. They nosing about a few properties in the area which means they’ve not got a further link in the chain right now
We have a viewing Saturday lunchtime, a first time buyer who has been financially vetted (apparently). We’ll see. At least we know the house is still safe.

Teh Fluffies have settled back into the flat with no problems (after being rescused from The Evil Lorryngton, who, according to Charlotte, made them sweep the chimbley, lick t’ road clean and eat mashed turnips for the last 6 months).

Oddly, to link the last two paragraphs very nicely indeed, it was whilst driving home from work tonight that I realised that if Bez was a human being, he would actually BE one of our Esatanist agents. You’d have to meet the guy to understand, I suppose, but if you’ve met Bez, you’ll probably know what I mean.

Oh, and there’s a Marks ‘n’ Spencer petrol station recently opened up down the road from home. They don’t sell petrol, they sell carefully selected crude oil, refined using fractional distillation to create a sumptuous blend of aliphatic hydrocarbons and enhanced with aromatic hydrocarbons toluene, benzene or iso-octane to increase octane ratings.

‹Copnsiders Steak n Kidney pud to truly be the food of the gods. Ambriosia? Well ,it’s alright for pudding I suppose›

Marvellous.

‹Repeats top vid of most favouritest plane ever›