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So, as of this Saturday I will be without a residence in which to write my precious blogs, stare at my bumpy skin, or whinge about my filthy roommates. It's sad, you know, the end of the 'Broke's chapter. I may have shed a tear or two, as I cleared out the kitchen's layers of old junk. There was a busking license for a now semi-famous musician. Party poppers, unpopped, never to reach their full potential. Ice cream cones, whose owner has now fled the country, left stale and deteriorating. Fanta that has lost it's jazz, and returned to a more mellow yellow...I can't wait to get out of this shit hole.

So, my parents are up helping with the big move. Surprise, surprise all the houses we applied to fell through. Four young males, do you want to trust us with your family's castle? I think not. So we will be putting all of our stuff in storage. And living on the streets. I've decided my street name is now Omelette, said with a deep harsh growl. Hinting that I come from a once well-off background where cheesy, eggy goodness were a staple of my diet, but have turned to the streets where I make omelettes out of people's faces, in reprimand for their side-long glances...So I'll most likely be staying in my friend's townhouse. At least till I can get somewhere sorted, I may even go home and do the surfing sorting from a distance, at the beach, with free rent and food.

Hmmm, so that's the brief update of my life. Really I wish I could update and tell you that I've been in Europe for the past 2 weeks and met a beautiful wealthy heiress whom loves me for me. Not because I'm fat like Cindy Crawford. And that I spend my days sailing about the Mediterranean (in winter). But we all know that those are my plans for next week.

My skin, looks understandably red and slightly mountainous. I've been trying to keep up with my regimen, but due to a lack of cheap BP and no address to ship it to at the moment it's been difficult. Hopefully, once I'm old and dull, I'll look back at these exciting times of my youth and say wow, who cares what my skin was like or where I lived. Life was fun. I was youthful, the outer suburbs were my oyster, things were simpler back then, we still had analogue TV, you could leave your house open and no one would steal anything. A man could drop off a strange little old asian lady to her house (yes, this may have happened today), and beer was only 8 dollars a pint...Nah, I'm not the sentimental type.


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I hate it when things don't reach their full potential, I'm gutted about those party poppers! wink.png

You're better off staying away from Europe right now, it's far too cold. And those wealthy heiress types are probably more trouble than they're worth anyway so I don't suppose you're missing out on too much...

Best of luck getting something sorted mate, hope things turn around for you very soon! smile.png

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Thanks Paul. I'm hoping it'll work out soon too!! We've put in an application for a private rental, in which case we could move in by this weekend. Hopefully, hopefully!

We had a heat wave this week, about 36 degrees and humid as Hades'. So I'm dreaming of the cold, when I do eventually get to sleep. I don't really care about how troublesome they are, all women are troublesome, but if you pick a rich one than you get a financial bonus! ;)

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I have to like this because yay, new entry!

OMS I think I'm in love with Omelette. He's so bad-arse, you know? And I heard he used to be rich, and knows a dozen languages, and is related to the Queen.

I think you'll find it's phat like Cindy Crawford, haha!

Have you finished doing the exit clean of the place? That's the worst job ever, and so stressful. I hate it so much I'd've actually offered to help out, if I'd read this earlier, because the only way to do it without wanting to off yourself on the pointy end of a broom is to have heaps of people helping, with the music blasting, and an esky full of ice and beer.

I'm loving this weather! Oh sweet relief! Although I did have to sleep naked on top of all my sheets the other night. Worth it!

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Or in our case to pay for the place to be exit cleaned. Ha ha, we don't have the time to do it. Well I do, but the others work full-time, and we'll be moving stuff this afternoon and tomorrow. Hell no am I doing an exit clean by myself. So I'm happy to pay for it. I think I'll just have the beer anyway, as I watch people exit clean.

Omelette is bad arse. He runs a drug syndicate, in The Valley, there's a Cafe that acts as the front, in which case ice is cooked in the back. He likes to play golf, with eyeballs. On top of languages he's also been trained in a dozen fighting methods. His catch phrase "Do you want pepper with that" (as he spoons out their eyeballs).

Lol, thank you for solving that mystery for me. I always wondered why they were calling Cindy Crawford fat, I thought it must have been sarcasm. But no, it was the 90's cool version of phat, of course!

Yes, this weather is now fantastically cool. I can't sleep naked, I always feel somehow, well naked, it has to be underwear and at least a sheet.

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