Obviously need to contact the ombudsman about these and the host of other shit the landlord won't fix, but am having trouble writing the whole imbroglio in less than 10,000 words.

Meanwhile, in the attic, one of the two-part purlins has been separating for some years. A few good blasts of wind will bring roof down, according to a couple of the many surveyors. Landlord has ignored it, their coked-up roofer told me to fix it myself, and the purlin continues to separate.

Landlord sends round surveyors who tell landlord that it needs sorting out quick sharpish, landlord ignores survey, and gets a different surveyor round who says the same thing.

Each time a surveyor comes round, they pluck off a bit of plaster, like its the Berlin Wall.

Excuse the typo, there's been dentisting done with funny drugs and strong painkillers.

The print wins! Woo! Yay! Etc!

I need a cigarette after that.

Have left the thrills of Flog It for the final few layers of the print.

It's so exciting, much better than Flog It.