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Ooh yes, carpet shampooers rule. Hire one from a tool hire shop for extra-robust, non-nonsense action. I cleaned the fag-ash infested carpet of my old flat with one, and the resultant mixture sucked up by the device resembled tar, and stank something terrible. It was ace.
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H1ppychick
We all prisoners, chickee-baby. We all locked in.
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quote:Originally posted by OJ: H1ppychick - I have a Liverpool FC room. It's very similar I imagine - wallpapered in bright red club logo paper (ouch) with matching lampshade. Also inherited from a previous child owner.
We could have a room competition. Lock a couple of lucky forites in the respective rooms, with just the junk we store in 'em for company and see which one has a psychotic episode first!
I'll show you mine if you show me yours. I'll post a picture up tonight or something. Then you can all appreciate the wonder of my Man U room!
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quote:Originally posted by jonesy999: Do you have any good lesbian fighting stories OJ? Or do you wait until the bar room brawl kicks off and then crawl out on your hands and knees like The Fall Guy?
Er, no. I'm not much of a fighter. I did once break a window in anger, but this is mainly notable for the fact that the breakage involved throwing overarm accurately and at some velocity for the first and last time in my life.
Apart from that, when I used to frequent pubs of any degree of roughness, I was always the one obliviously carrying on talking whilst chairs whistled by and people were being pinned to pool tables. I don't think anyone's ever gone for me, being too weedy to be worth a fight and too lazy to have snogged your girlfriend in the toilets.
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The *ahem* borrowed steam cleaner gets out the odd stain or two but the carpets now such a patchwork of stainage it need a good down and dirty cleaning. We have the mega Dysons, we have the stolen steam cleaner, we have magic Dyson carpet dry shampoo AND we have a one year old who thinks the funniest thing on Earth is to stamp Kiwi Fruit into the carpet OR squeezing crap out of his nappy and smearing it onto the floor as soon as one of us isn't watching.
The Sven Hassel carpet cleaner looks good if I can find one here, it's just such a pain in the arse having to empty the whole room out to clean the carpet.
The carpet is a very light beige, three years ago it seemed like such a good idea.
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The beige carpet I put in my flat to sell it was so light it boredered on white. That was less than six months ago and it's already fucking filthier than TMO's collective imagination. If the current 'buyer' doesn't come through with cash then I'm going to have to call in Sven Hassel before I put it back on the market.
quote:Originally posted by H1ppychick: I'll show you mine if you show me yours. I'll post a picture up tonight or something. Then you can all appreciate the wonder of my Man U room!
It's a plan. Will take a picture of mine at the weekend (viewings by appointment only, evidently )
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friday: went to restaurant opening. it was shit. sambuca. old. gothic looking. shit. shit jazz band for dinner. old men, young ladies with plastic surgery. from there to a fashion show. shit. absolutely shit. shit clothes, shit makeup, hair = cool. from there to bar, got asked for id. asked why. with the words "jesus wept, i haven't shaved for almost a week and i'm 30. why are you carding me?" "becuase you're a little dude". wank. bar. people dancing on tables. and on bar. over priced drinks.
home. saturday: hangover. hugely distracting. didn't go to work. sat at home and did fuck all. minded mates store for two hours. played disc-golf. drank colt 45. tried a brass monkey. thought it was alright. went back to nashville, ate pizza, watched some football, fell asleep. woke up walked home.
sunday: cycled to international supermarket on 8th and jefferson. bought vegetables with the other immigrants. danced to asian muzak. cycled home up the hill of death on church street. got home. cooked roast vegetables. went to friends birthday. ate with geeks. vegetables went down well. shook hand of man about to go to iraq, 9 days after his 2nd kid was born. got home. went for walk, checked out neighbourhood decorations for halloween, some good some bad, two haunted houses, picked up a free (read just lying on the street) new york times, went to the teet got some milk, went home. watched magnolia. went to bed. listened to our upstairs neighbours dancing/running in high heels/ i have no fucking idea what they do up there but christ on a bike its fucking loud.
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