Tuesday, 13 September 2011

The TV Detector man cometh.

Knock on the door earlier - as I was upstairs I opened the window at the front - it was a TV detector man, built like a brick shithouse. Had a little touch screen. I told him I'd not had a TV since last year and was sick of telling them - he asked f I'd had my living room inspected - I said no... and reluctantly agreed to show him the least decorated room in the house, which had dog blankets on the floor and a pile of washing hanging up to dry The dog blankets had been flea-powdered and smelt of camphor. Alfie hated him and wanted to attack, I had to hold him back. It was embarrassing and he probably assumed I was some kind of squatter.

At least that's out of the way.

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