Monday, November 01, 2004


Crash course for those who don't know:
I live on the roof of an office block on Fitzroy Street, London. On my left is the Tube Station coveted with lots of drunk characters, 10 secs walk to Mac D's where townies in tracksuits gather, opposite a construction site flanked with cute sweaty immigrant builders, next to a cafe where lorry drivers assemble for lunch and there is a daily congestion of office smokers around the flat entrance puffing their lives away.

One thing to be proud of: I have a food disposal unit. And a spanking clean toilet.

Council Tax has come knocking on my door and I have absolutely no idea what they were pressing on for. So I offered them Chocolate Swiss rolls to shut them up.

My American neighbour forgot his keys and was waiting in the cold for the landlord to open up his door. Being a kind Samaritan I invited him to pop over for refuge at my place. He said he will wait for a while and come up a bit later. Later, he was pressing my doorbell ten times but I left my music on at maximum. Ooops..

As a reknowned midday riser, I usually undertake the anonymous task of sorting out mails into flat pigeonholes. One day, as i was doing so, a Chinese student/neighbour walked in and glared suspiciously at me as though I was stealing letters. True enough, I was coincidentially holding a stack of Barclays and HSBC letters in my hands.. but shit, do I LOOK LIKE A THIEF????

Poor 7 yr old landlord's son (whose room is next to mine) has moved out of his bedroom. I don't think he liked Franz Ferdinand nor my hair dryer.

I slept through the fire drill again. Fire engines were gathered around the block and everyone has vacated their flats.
Except me.

Something is rotting in my kitchen. I can't figure out what it is. Must be the grapes, cheese, pate and chicken bones I left in the bin since last week.