Friend's house
Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. After a heavy night in the pub, I had predictably enough missed the last bus home. "Oh cock" thought I, as I imagined the thought of trudging home to Deepcar from the centre of Sheffield. Then, a friend piped up, offering crash space. "Oh brilliant" thought I, "I won't have to walk several miles home".

And so there we were, chatting on the way to his place. And then, he opened the door. It was as though Foul Ole Ron had moved in long ago, and brought his Smell with him. And then, as my sense of "Oh brilliant" shrivelled like a horny male member suddenly thinking of his mother, I saw The Mess.

It was beyond grim. "How Clean Is Your House" wouldn't have made a dent on this place. It was so bad, Mr Trebus would have been either proud, or disgusted. I err towards the latter. It was at this point I was presented with what was to be my bed for the night- in the "cleanest" room of the house.

An old red futon, with an interesting patina to it. It was shiny. Fabric isn't supposed to be shiny. Concealing my disgust quite well, I thanked my housemate for the night for the crash space, and crashed out.

So, I awoke in the morning, looked around at the mess, and quickly checked my kidneys to make sure they were still there. Thankfully, they were, and still are. I left, swearing never to miss the last bus again.

/Edit

I should clarify at this point it was not a b3tan's house. Woodside Industries, Prof Kenny Martin and Jessie, along with the Hoodbutters, your places are lovely. This was... Satan's Toilet.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Thu 17 Jan 2008, 17:17, 2 replies)

"It was as though Foul Ole Ron had moved in long ago"
*clickies* for the Discworld reference :).
(adamjc is awesome, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 12:52, closed)

Bloody ingrates.
Well you ungrateful twunt!

That's the last time I let you sleep at mine in a moment of need. Next time you can sodding well walk home...
(Satans_Toilet, Tue 22 Jan 2008, 11:43, closed)