Cameron is moving out of the house this weekend and has spent the last few days immured in papers lamenting the fact that no matter how much he throws away, the amount of crap around him never reduces. He is trying to get rid of his porn collection so I inherited White Trash Whore 17- the next night he had a dream that he was killing mice by feeding them poisoned Tim Tams and then wrapping them in the pages of dirty magazines, then burying them in the compost where they were (in a shocking twist) discovered by his father.
Looking again for a housemate: hoping for a somebody with two X chromosomes, a functioning bank account and a brain. I feel annoyed about having to look again but as Marcinski says homies have to help themselves.
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Tales of blood and deception (interspersed with large amounts of boring autobiography). Read at your peril!
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