Thursday 27 December 2012

Moving out & dodgy cunts

So welcome to the mansion...

I've moved into a house that has character.
This particular character is riddled with parasites and is someone you would avoid outside of the bar, but perhaps be good friends with on a particularly drunken night.

Character.

I am not a particularly anal person when it comes to cleaning and such. I just like to know that I use the toilet I wont catch several STDs. I'm a bitch like that.

It is quite the party house, except at the same time if you have people over the thing they all say is "the house has a lot of potential". That is the exact same sentiment we had when we moved in. Only the cracked window and stuff from the previous tenants is more of an inconvenience than we had previously thought.

As is the legion of possums outside which have fed on the mysterious collection of plants and become enraged super possums.

....Not really. That'd be pretty cool though.
They're just normal possums. They poop and make a fucked up noise.

Speaking of fucked up noises, there was a loud noise downstairs and the housemates and I armed ourselves and went downstairs to face the attacker. They grabbed swords from their rooms and I didn't want to be unarmed so I grabbed the quickest, most weapon-like thing I could find. In heinsight I could have looked for 30secs more and grabbed my pocket knife.

But that wouldn't have been nearly as awesome as...





Mr. Planky was out for blood!
I like to think people think I would draw on it before marching downstairs into battle!
However, that was a previous drunken antics (#sharehouse lyff)

So we get down there and search around and figure out it's probably nothing/a possum(blood possum/blossum)/wind/etc... we return upstairs VICTORIOUS!

I just imagine if we were in a video game that I would be the joke character that you chose because you liked the outfit or they said funny catch phrases. Or you got an achievement if you complete the game using JUST Mr. Planky.

Yeppers. This is how my brain works.

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