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Don’t ask me how, where or when ‘cos I really don’t have a clue. Yet.

But the thought of staying here in this house is no longer one that I’m happy with.

And yes, it has a LOT to do with my neighbours, particularly the fishwife-on-helium chick next door and her Spawn of Satan offspring who have now started screaming things (at the top of their lungs) like:


And you don’t want to KNOW about the bitch-fight that happened when a complaint was lodged.

Between the ghastly family next door, the howling new baby on the other side, the kids behind me, the mournful dog down the road that never shuts up at night, the weekly thumping parties, the non-stop bergie interruptions, the bad memories in this place and the intense feelings of frustration and claustrophobia, I have decided that it’s time to move on.

So … I’m outta here.