More about which to complain
I'm tempted to take a photo of his bedroom and post it here. It is the sort of squalid hovel into which even the most aggressively anti-social former public school first year undergraduate would be deeply reluctant to crawl.
Right now there are perhaps a couple of square feet of carpet visible near the doorway, but beyond that its a miscellany of crap: dirty clothes, clean clothes, food, food wrappers, newspapers, books, CD cases, CDs, bedding, shoes, glasses, cups, correspondence, a couple of travel bags and a couple of large suitcases, coinage, fag packets, matches, computer hardware scrap, a coffee grinder, assorted small pieces of fitness equipment, dead mobile telephones, a small collection of defunct telephone chargers, a replacement tap set for the bath. And that's just what I can see from the doorway.
The room contains a king-size bed, a bedside table a large chest of drawers (three whole width drawers, and a pair at the top), a wardrobe and a side board. The bed is not made - in the sense that it has nothing on it except an uncovered duvet and a couple of uncovered pillows, no sheets or covers. Three of the five drawers are way open, the doors of the wardrobe are open and clothes have been hung over those doors and there is laundry hanging from the curtain pole and draped over the radiator.
This is the bedroom of a grown man, an adult of 45 years of age.
It absolutely stinks of stale cider and nicotine which seep from his pores as he sleeps. At its worst it spills from the door and down the staircase.
Right now there are perhaps a couple of square feet of carpet visible near the doorway, but beyond that its a miscellany of crap: dirty clothes, clean clothes, food, food wrappers, newspapers, books, CD cases, CDs, bedding, shoes, glasses, cups, correspondence, a couple of travel bags and a couple of large suitcases, coinage, fag packets, matches, computer hardware scrap, a coffee grinder, assorted small pieces of fitness equipment, dead mobile telephones, a small collection of defunct telephone chargers, a replacement tap set for the bath. And that's just what I can see from the doorway.
The room contains a king-size bed, a bedside table a large chest of drawers (three whole width drawers, and a pair at the top), a wardrobe and a side board. The bed is not made - in the sense that it has nothing on it except an uncovered duvet and a couple of uncovered pillows, no sheets or covers. Three of the five drawers are way open, the doors of the wardrobe are open and clothes have been hung over those doors and there is laundry hanging from the curtain pole and draped over the radiator.
This is the bedroom of a grown man, an adult of 45 years of age.
It absolutely stinks of stale cider and nicotine which seep from his pores as he sleeps. At its worst it spills from the door and down the staircase.
posted by Enyo @ 10:31 am
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