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This is a question How clean is your house?

"Part of my kitchen floor are thick with dust, grease, part of a broken mug, a few mummified oven-chips, a desiccated used teabag and a couple of pieces of cutlery", says Sandettie Light Vessel Automatic. To most people, that's filth. To some of us, that's dinner. Tell us about squalid homes or obsessive cleaners.

(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:00)
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The Palace
Below is an email I received from one of my student mates about the results of a night out with his housemate, S. They referred to their flat as the Palace, as it was such a shithole.

Be aware, it's written in Geordie.


so anywho S, we went out for a social which was canny good
ended up in digital, was very impressed. get back t' palace and were
drunk as fuck & canny hungry so i go to make us sumat ta eat.
look in th fridge and find eggs thinking it was a good time to teach
him how to tell the difference between a boiled egg and a raw one!

he sees the eggs turns at looks at the roof where the hole used to be
and says fucking shitting palace kitchen ceiling and starts hoying
raw eggs at the ceiling.

when half the eggs are gone (box of dozen) he turns and looks at the
washing machine (which is broken) and says your shit too, take that
you bastard and starts chucking spoons at it.
when there's no more spoons he picks up a jam jar and boosh.
big fuck off shattering noise but no broken glass, puzzled i look
down to the floor and cant see any glass cos he put the fuckin drum
window through.

i open the drum door and the lot just falls out on the flour.
this causes S to get even more pissed off and opens the back door
and starts yucking our special eggs (the use by date says '08 a.k.a.
palace bombs) over the back wall onto cretins windows ( the next door
neighbour) only the way the walls are situated the eggs could have
only come from the palace.

when they run out he stumbles back in and gets more jamjars, starts
pelting these fuckers into other peoples backyards drunk as fuck at
half 4 in the morning.
after we get in, we sit down and S mumbles something about
viewing people and then turns a shade of red that makes his hair look
white and then this S shaped blur flies through the palace to the
sound of wahhhhhh waaahhhhh blu bla fuckin blahhh.

i run into ( try to run) into the palace kitchen to see what's
happened and he's fuckin whitied every where. palace kitchen floor,
palace kitchen sink, down the back of the radiator & over the
washing machine. heres me thinking for fuck's sake.

he comes out the palace bathroom laughing his back off and says im
fuckin paggered am gannan to bed.

before i hit the hay i take a piss and there's puke over the
floor ,on the shower glass pain and in the bathroom sink. shaking ma
head i turn to the toilet to cyphon the python and to my suprise the
fucking toilet is sparkling. not a mark on it.

i get up at 2pm walk very ruffly into the palace kitchen, i
nearly chucked up at the smell, cause the heating was on, gathered
the strength to get a brew on the go and there's this knock at the
door.

i walk from the palace kitchen passed S's room to the front door
when S sticks his head out of his bedroom door and says "that will
be the people coming for viewing."
(, Wed 31 Mar 2010, 19:59, Reply)

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