April first, 2015. Me, my father and our friend Tony all moved into a large house together. As I am currently moving out of said house into Tonys new house’s sofa/bed settee/bench in the park, I thought I would publish the diary I wrote from the day we moved into this house, 18 months ago.

“1st April

Dear diary, it finally happened! I am sat here in the new house, it doesn’t smell of over flowing poo  like the dream I had the other night, where the poo was flowing down the stairs like some kind of horrific indoor waterfall.

There are boxes piled up to the roof almost everywhere.  I think some of Tony’s boxes are mixed up with mine. I have no recollection of purchasing a chrome teas maid, but I could have, who knows where my wandering internet fingers click when I’m on an 4 month old advent calendar bender.

The day has been an absolute nightmare! We got up at 7am when the removal men turned up an hour early. So none of us were ready. Tony helped move boxes in his silk kimono and flip flops. He was so cold you could see his nipples more than any other feature, I know I saw testi on several occasions. The removal men were terrifying, they were all build like shit houses made from brick and they smelled like one too. They were all monosyllabic and when they did talk every other word was a swear word. I’ve never heard such inventive ways to say somethings heavy “God what’s in here an elephant’s cock?”, “Holy turd canoes, what’s in here a whales minge flaps?” and they called me a ‘lazy shit pirate’ when I wouldn’t help move the sideboard! They didn’t want to do anything. Why be a removal man if you resent lifting anything heavier than an atom?

It took them 5 hours to load up their vans with all our stuff. It would have been quicker if they hadn’t stopped to smoke every 9 minutes. That’s not an exaggeration, I timed them! They said they would go and get some lunch then they would meet us at the new house in 2 hours. Where were they going for lunch that took that long, a 9 course banquet? Tea with the Queen? I think they had another small removal job to go to. Maybe a gnome needed moving from one hidden tree trunk house to another slightly better hidden tree trunk house. That’s where gnomes live of course, but that’s common knowledge. Or maybe they were moving a borrower from one house to another. Or maybe they had a lot of underwear to move. I think they were doing a small removal job, that’s the point I’m clumsily trying to put across!

Dad, Tony and I got a taxi to the new house. The stupid butter faced rectum goblin who owns the house hadn’t moved out! The bulbus flatulent wench was still there. Her stuff was in boxes and ready to be moved but she hadn’t! We couldn’t believe it, she seemed like a stubborn tick, no wonder her husband had a look of eternal exhaustion. She came and met us and said her removal people had been delayed and would be here ‘when they got here’ Tony punched someones car and set off an alarm. They didn’t arrive for another hour! When our removal men turned up (45 minutes late) she still had stuff in the top 3 rooms. So they were sat waiting for another hour before we could move our stuff in. Tony punched the same car again and a man came running out and threw a kebab at him.

Tony was absolutely furious. He was screaming at the woman by the end of the day, he said he would be suing her. She slapped him round is face and spat on his kimono. I think he wanted to punch her koala like nose but Dad took him to the pub at the end of the road for a relaxing shot or two of absinthe.

If I thought the removal men were angry about moving furniture from our old house to their van, then moving it from their van into a house with 4 flights of stairs was something else! They flat out refused to move some of our furniture to the top floors. All Tony’s cabinets are in our front room on the ground floor, they wouldn’t carry them because they had marble tops. His elephant style Indian bookcase is in my bedroom and there are dozens of boxes of his books in mine and Dad’s room. They were the most useless removal company I have ever seen. They have broken our sideboard too, they tried to pick it up by the decorative woodwork. It snapped off in their hands, they didn’t even say sorry just “this wooden turds gone to shit”. Their website claimed they have insurance but I highly doubt it.

By 8pm we were moved in and the horrible men had buggered right off. Tony, who was quite drunk by now, had come back from the Chinese with a giant take away. It was a banquet! I got a serving of prawn toast and prawn crackers all to myself! We had several bottles of beer each and by 10pm we were/are all utterly pissed up!

I’ve never written this diary this drunk. The amount of highlighted spelling mistakes is incalculable, which is fairly normal to be fair. Almost every word is spelled wrong! But if I don’t write down what’s transpired today, I’m likely to forget! I might be sick in this antique vase of Tony’s tonight! But there are crude painted on naked ladies on it also. Either way no one is going to want to touch this vase in the morning.”