A Far Fetched Resolution

I’ll tell you what happens with impossible promises. You start with far-fetched resolutions. They are then pickled into a rigid dogma, a code, you go through the years sticking to that, out-dated, misplaced, irrelevant to the real needs, and you end up in the grotesque chaos of a Labour council, a Labour council hiring taxis to scuttle round the city handing out redundancy notices to its own workers. I’ll tell you.. You can’t play politics with people’s jobs and with people’s services.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

A roof over my head...

Avid readers of this blog, or your friendly local rag (if you live in...west Norwood. Or Brixton. Or Bermondsey. and so on. ) will know that I've recently had a couple of run-ins with ceilings and roofs (Rooves?!?)

However, it is not the predominance of overly-proximous ceilings which troubles me today. It is the lack of a roof over my head.

I have been dossing and making do for accomodation since I came down to start my new job on the 18th September whilst wrestling with the combined incompetence of the entire estate agent/landlord class of South London.

I am now tantalisingly close to establishing a new home, with a good friend of mine, somewhere in Oval. However, in this particular instance the incompetence of the propertariat is manifesting itself in a rampant inability to pick up their phone.

Mr BROWNE - ANSWER YOUR PHONE! AM I SUPPOSED TO BE MOVING IN ON SATURDAY OR NOT!?!!?

posted by Pickles @ 5:44 pm  

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