A little light relief from the
weird and creepy stuff I normally write about, some teenage ramblings. Hashtag: cringe.
Found: in the box of shame, locked away since we partied like it was 1999.
Date: circa 1991 -1998
Circumstance: Who knows? Possibly a
school trip, or disappointing family holiday. We stayed in one place where
there was a very creepy dining-room. The floor was black, polished wood. There
were many glass fronted cabinets filled with stuffed animals and fake flowers.
There was an impressive collection of well-thumbed Jilly Cooper paperbacks. The
owner said (imagine cryptic, crystal-gazing voice) ‘No one goes in the
DINING-ROOM’.
I don’t think this is that holiday.
What is certain is that my sense of social injustice, and indeed accommodation benchmark
standards, were a bit skewed. There certainly wasn’t any of the things in the
school toilets as described, with the exception of the occasional droplet of
wee on the toilet. seat. You have to assume the rest was included for dramatic
effect.
After my stay here (all 3 hours of
it) I have decided that this is the most disgusting, flea-ridden, repulsive,
sweaty, shit-infested bog-water arsehole piss-bucket I have EVER had the
displeasure to see in my LIFE! Yes, EVEN my school toilets which have shit up
the walls and piss on the floor / dead people hanging from the ceiling / blood,
shit and all kinds of disgusting things in the sink – and that’s just the
TEACHER’s loos.
And you look like the type of
person that would irritate the hell out of me, you stupid old tart. This place
stinks of fucking mothballs and fucking cat’s piss and dog’s shit. The bath is
the size of MY BABRBIE HAS A BATH set, only fucking smaller. The taps DO NOT
WORK, we are dying from carbon monoxide POISONING and I can hear what people in
the next STREET are saying – oh, and talking of the ‘town’ it’s like the one in
Amityville / Elm Street, only worse, cause the houses don’t look as nice, the
houses looks like fucking industrial fucking concrete from World War fucking 2.
I HATE IT. I wish that I was in Prague, I am sure it would be more
PRETTY than THIS! Am I making myself clear, you rip-off bitch? There’s a
massive fucking spider the size of AMERICA crawling across the wall,
like it’s going to TAKE OVER the fucking world or something.
Am I ranting? You bet I FUCKIN
AM!!! I want to go home. And so you know where home is? CHESHAM, the epitome of
crap. And I want to go BACK!
Anyway, I have to go. I’ve got some
bogarts to tame, some fleas to catch, a tent to sleep in. A portaloo at Glastonbury would be better than this. What’s the point of the empty cabinets?
Eh? And the SHITE furniture? There’s small animals living in the mattresses! I
bet your house is dead nice, isn’t it? I bet you’ve got a nice TV and a proper
bath and cupboards that don’t look like something out of TACK EMPORIUM CO, eh?
Huh, huh huh? Cause you’ve got lots of money earned from shite accommodation like
THIS.
