A walk on the wild side .....

Admittedly Chateau Long Dog is, as yet, unsold

for which read "I don't have the readies to buy something else"

but why let penury stand in the way of a good old nose

round someone else's gaff?

 

A decision, dear readers, which I and my trusty little marsupial

kinswoman are currently regretting at our leisure.

The plan was simple enough "Let's go and black our

noses at a couple of places to get some idea of

what's currently on the market here in Norfolk.

 

Would that it had looked like this!

 

 

Sound enough reasoning but unfortunately the first place

on our list of two had already been snapped up

and I wish to god we'd never agreed to view the second.

 

It wasn't an easy place to find even with satellite and when we

finally rocked up at the front door we were met

with a scene from Hoarders meets the Adam's family.

Get the picture?

 

The late lamented Mr Reed

 

We were just debating whether to turn tail and leg it when

the front door swung open and there stood a twitching,

heavily pierced man who made Lou Reed look cuddly.

But the worst thing was the living wall of pong

issuing from deep inside the building.

That and the dozen or so scrawny cats who were also

issuing from the building as fast as their scabby

little legs would carry them.

 

In we went - I was so glad I wasn't on my own -

both of us hoping that we wouldn't be offered anything

to drink and trying not to brush against furniture,

walls or the occupants for that matter for fear of

contamination!!!

 

I kid you not.

 

 

First stop the downstairs cloakroom - I have the words

to describe it but would prefer not to on the grounds

that I have just eaten.  Let's just say that that's

where the litter trays were, the basin could well

have belonged to Quentin Crisp (didn't you see the film -

yeuk!) and thankfully something was stopping the door

from opening fully so we were spared a full frontal

encounter with - the john!

 

The kitchen was where the cats were fed although I don't think

anyone had washed up a dish this century yet and it's

2014 already.  Sink - don't go there, ditto worktops

if you can actually locate them under all the filth.

She's under there somewhere - look

that's her foot I think.

 

The piece de resistance was the living room. 

He even apologised for it being a bit untidy, there was

a distinct smell of illegal substances and joss sticks

burning all around.  But the thing which really freaked

us both out was when a disembodied female voice

began to speak to us from somewhere under all the stuff on

the sofa.  Run for it Scooby!

 

I can't wait to give the agent my feedback

- I shall be spelling it the old Anglo Saxon way with two F's.

Let's have a bit more of Lou - "Such a perfect day etc ..."