So I went to see that 950 euro 1 bedroom apartment this evening and, well to accuse it of being a bit of a hole would require some redefinition and a bit of compression on the wombat shit-O-meter. From now on, Rialto will be refered to as "mildly crap" and this apartment will be called "a bag of knackers".
Remember now, 950 a month: The sitting room is sparse to say the least, a sofa that looked like it had a previous life in a porno theatre and a carpet whose color can only be described as dystopian future mental asylum grey (and I'm not even certain that was its original colour) The "bedroom" had a view of a "garden" which was more like a disused carbark unless there's some sort of buddist zen thing I missed involving weeds and gravel that's in vogue right now. Back to the bedroom (haw haw). It had space for the two single beds (which could be combined into one - that always works SO well) and about a foot and a half space around them. The kitchen looked like an afterthought, like "Oh shit man, we forgot the kitchen!... we'll put it.... there!, in that corner where you have to squeeze in"
The bathroom.... oh the bathroom... it was so small you'd have to be careful in case you took a dump in the shower by accident, I didn't get to try but I suspect there might have been some gymnastics involved in getting to sit down and it almost certainly ruled out my sunday paper reading habbits.
The agent showing the place had a rather defeated look on her face, like she knew she had no hope of renting it to anyone except spanish students who really had no clue. Myself and the other bloke she showed it to actually giggled a little when she asked us if we were interested (cruel I know, but we'd been waiting for her in the rain and weren't feeling charitable)
So that all put me in a mood, I decided to buy some sweeties and a drink to cheer me up and do something for my sugar levels (or neutrasweet levels, whatever the hell it is that I get sick if I don't have) so I bought some welches grape soda, some sweeties and two jordan's crunchy bars, one almond and honey, the other maple and pecan.
Now I don't know how things work in jordan's factory, but on my planet maple and pecan doesn't taste like burned ass. Equally, honey and almond doesn't taste like maple and pecan with all the taste sucked out, and I don't know what the hell grapes taste like in welches.... ah never mind.
On the way home I saw a billboard with Ray D'arcy (former kids TV presenter and currently radio show host) on it and the caption "Why do men have nipples? - the serious questions on FM 104" and I thought it was appropriate because the man is a complete tit.....
The sweeties were nice though, those cherry cola sours rock and jelly beans are almost impossible to fuck up. So now I'm going to relax, sit back and maybe paint a troll or something, maybe finish those uruk hai or something and get ready for another day of work and househunty.