Ransacked! & Blue Imperial Leather Soap

LAST NIGHT I helped poor distraught Laundretta move the last of her things OUT of her old room. I say "last of her things"; I mean a couple of tartan washbags' worth... out of about 25 tartan washbags full of Laundretta's copious possessions (indeed t'was mostly laundry, 't'as t'be said..!

Matran being otherwise engaged (and sometimes thoroughly selfish, it has to be said) Laundretta said I was the ONLY person who had helped her move OUT of this double room full of bad memories... and into a SINGLE room where she can at least put some distance between them. They shall not be living as a couple any more. That is the theory, at least...

Because with nary a couple of days' notice, Evilstein has minded himself to knock my room and hers together into one generic supergarret (TWO superbly-double-glazed windows with GENUINE uPVC white frames! And two doors that have been so repeatedly ran at, squashed, bashed in, forced, wheedled, kicked at, carded and otherwise tampered with plus, in Laundretta's case about 25 copies of her keys (front door key included) are floating about the supposedly "lost" property of mysterious London... that in her stupors she has mislaid then had to beg the office for reinstatements... in the end she and Matran thought "get lost" and took to barging the front door open themselves so there it's been, swinging open all hours of night and day. Stingy Evilstein even (and this is monumentally SUPID if you consider the implications) REMOVED the latch from said front door so having lived with said door perpetually "on the latch" so to speak for weeks on end we now had an automatic "slam locked" front door that was more likely lock us out than ever before! And hence more likely yet again to get kicked in! Because that's what happens in vulgar houses with cupboard lock front doors. Evilstein and Butterstein, the two landlords, are in a lot of trouble, apparently for taking literally thousands of pounds off the local council's EMERGENCY HOUSING SECTION in weekly rent yet giving execrable service in return...

Dur! Hey this is what I wanted to tell you.... have you ever wanted to ransack and trash a room? Come on! We surely ALL have... well LAST NIGHT I got my chance. Drawers were pulled out, clothing strewn, cushions flung up high and trainers (that is "sneakers" to all ye Americans) clonking down with them. Chairs upended, table collapsed. Wow. Yeah!

The surly man who turned up this morning to complete the emptying of her room (and I mean emptying down to stripped-of-all-cupboards and wardrobes type of empty... totally stripped... he accused ME of interfering! Whatever gave him that idea!! I said hang on I WAS HERE LAST NIGHT with Laundretta, the ONLY person she had to help her (Matran's flown back away to family situations that's why she's in such a quandry loose canon last straw not knowing what on earth to do...) Yeah this man thought I HAD ransacked the room! I said hang on I WAS HERE HELPING last night and Laundretta was very upset. Eventually she just had to leave most of her stuff and stormed out going utterly BERZERK on the street (that's what she wanted me to tell them. She hates them for being so 2-faced with her...) so I told henchman this how I'd helped and we'd been searching out Matran's middle-aged reading glasses. He gazed at me in baleful disbelief. Then I pointed out that I'd fallen into the profoundest slumber and, because Evilstein has YET AGAIN failed to fix our door, or poor Laundretta's door LITERALLY ANYBODY FROM THE STREET was well able to sneak up, infiltrate her room and do anything there. So all flinging, streaming, strewing and upending ahoy ~ I got away with it!!

Butterstein the ueberlandlord was talking to me all jokey (which made Surly even more so: jealous that I appeared to get on fluently with the boss. Indeed I do in a 0.1 millimetre deep kind of a way. Surlystein doesn't realize how little love is lost between Butterstein (so-named because just like a blob of butter if you slip on this you can do yourself a yukky injury) when I requested I might have until tomorrow morning to clear my old room. This was agreed. And I've spend the day diligently filling the new room with specially selected best stuff. And littering the old room with pooily deselected old stuff. I'm ridding it myself as I could not bear some Evilsteinian henchman a-poking so-on through...

Now I simply MUST go this post has taken an hour longer than it ever meant to (according to their timer I've been on one hour precisely and it feels an hour too long I'm utterly exhausted and literally sleeping on my feet. I have to go but not before thanking you all profusely for the conglomeration of advice yous all gave me... I honestly did feel the need of a 2nd, 3rd... and 26th, 27th, 28th... opinion yesterday... as the Bible declares (in the book of proverbs take a multitude of counsel when in a quandry and you'll be fine)... and fine I am so thank you all very much indeed!

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The Blue Imperial Leather is something Laundretta'd left behind, still wrapped, on her sink. I broke it open today and it smells of lavvy cleaner, quite obnoxious... toilet-ducky, I spose you could rate it... least it's not as bad as that public swimming baths aroma using warmed up bleach tends to give...

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PS No more fighting robos! Why? Because I removed their teabox and every bit of furniture but the wheel. Now they're forced to live together and do so in furrily amusing harmony... three furry gremlin pompoms asleep and licking themselves in a row all day in the corner...