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.