Forest Hill

Last night I went with the ex to view a property for purchase in Forest Hill (has such a romantic ring to it, doesn’t it?).

We walked up the staircase and it smelt a lot like an old bawa’s house, slightly musty, fusty and damp. I can’t explain it more clearly, but if you’ve ever taken piano lessons from some old bawi you’ll know what I’m talking about.

I have to say I rather like the smell, fond memories and all that.

The ex wasn’t impressed, I suppose you wouldn’t really want to invest in it.

Left some marinated chicken on the tube by accident. I feel like kicking myself.

Dammit that was supposed to be lunch……or dinner. Shit.


12 thoughts on “Forest Hill

  1. Hey Fernando thank you for the comments. I begged Fernanda to leave some and force everyone else to as well. I’m really a simple [and sad] person that comments thrill me so much. and I’m doing quite good except I feel really guilty about that chicken i lost

  2. if i don’t leave it on I get spam. and that bothers me even more than a lack of comments. because first I think its a real comment and get excited only to be disillusioned moments later.sigh.bastard spam bots

Deranged comments preferred

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