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Monday, 26 December 2016

In which Christmas is over...

Back to work today...

But, what a day off...

The turkey twizzler was a triumph and was followed by an Asda Smart Price pudding for one, slathered in custard.  Obv, had a bit of a nap after all that and then resumed mopping shite off the bathroom floor.

Amazing really, since an emergency plumber, who turned up 26 hrs late, fiddled about, charged £130 for 20 mins work and cleared off saying he'd fixed it, had been on Christmas  eve.

Rather fitting really that the end of a shitty year should be actually submerged in poop.

Still have no hot water in The Lair, but there's plenty of cold water sloshing about to paddle in.

Crap on the telly too.  Not even a decent rendition of A Christmas  Carol to indulge in.  Lots of festive adverts showing nuclear families enjoying over consumption of festive fayre and drowning in expensive presents though.

The best gift One can hope for in the new year is some likely cove fronting up to purchase what's left of the crumbling Lair.  Not a great deal of hope for that scenario though.  After all, if the Estate Agent's blurb were to reveal the truth, it would say: Crumbling, damp Lair for sale, complete with undulating wooden floor seeping sewage.

Anyway One shall not be cowed, One shall rise above it all, paint a No 7 smile on One's angelic face and skip up the road in my worn out shoes to hump beer crates up the stairs and sell fine grocery items to the great unwashed.

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