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# My flatmate
was a sound bloke, but a wee bit nutty some times.

Wanted a new telly, and on his way out to buy one, was stopped in the street by some blokes in a white van selling TVs. Bargain! They carried the beast upstairs, put it in the living room, and left their mobile number as they left in case anything wasn't tip top. Upon switching it on, the tv had colour weirdness in the top corner (which went away after a couple of hours) Mein flattenmaten's response to this was to immediately phone the mobile number and leave a message describing at length how he was going to find them and kill them. Good idea. I arrived home from work to find every single stabby and hitty thing laid out methodically on the sofa. Ok-doaky. Given that these blokes, no doubt lovely, easy going white van driving gangster types, knew exactly where we lived, perhaps not the best idea. Coupled with the fact it was a one bedroomed flat (he kipped on the living room floor) in which these chaps knew their way around, it was fairly safe to say to say that any late night killing visits would be to the bedroom. My bedroom.

Yes. I slept very well for a week after that.
(, Tue 18 Nov 2003, 12:00, archived)