Of Mice And Snakes
Acceptable Living Standards In Portsmouth
What the hell is that thing? And more importantly, what the fuck is it doing in my bedroom?
I thought I was hallucinating at first, as a brightly coloured poisonous looking snake is the last thing you expect to see wiggling along your bedroom floor in a country as cold and rainy as England.
I tried to pick it up by the tail so I could stick it in a carrier bag and throw it out the front door, but I kept dropping it, and it wiggled under the fridge, and I can't find it anywhere. I think it followed the scent of the mouse droppings into the holes in the skirting board, because it's gone now.
Needless to say, I didn't waste my time calling those tards from the emergency services as the last, and only, time I ever dialled 999, they told me I had to tolerate a mentally unstable junkie running up and down the stairs shouting abuse at me and trying to slit my throat with a knife, or I'd be arrested and sent to prison. I've no doubt they'd have said the same about the snake too...
"He's an escaped pet, and his owner's got a tenancy agreement!"
I don't want to start playing the race card, but I'm curious as to how many 'straight off the boat' immigrants portsmouth council have housed since they received the letter from my counsellor telling them that after two knife attacks in my own home, one near fatal, and being surrounded by a never ending procession of junkies, pissheads, perverts, and parasites, it's not just my physical safety that's an issue, I need to be urgently rehoused on mental health grounds too!
I have to use the launderette too, because the washing machine makes my clothes smell like drains...
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