Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Monday, October 18, 2004

In Which I Move House

'Edwardo - Move Me!' - Part I

Now. As I am the Ruler of the Known Universe, it is fair to demand a little glamour in my life. Hence when I moved house this weekend - well, candidly one expects being carried across London on a sedan chair by Messers Pitt and Clooney, trumpet fanfares sounding as I take my new residence as seventeen oiled and fabulous men toil behind me, carrying all my splendorous possessions in ermine-lined boxes. So you can imagine my surprise when I open the door to find two odorous men, half-heartedly mumbling that they're here to "move me".

"Not without you taking a bath and me lowering my standards," was something I almost said. As was, "But I ordered attractive!" A quick spy left-and-right confirmed that there was no Hollywood stars around, and this Would Have To Do, so I let them in and offered them tea as I believe this is what one does to the underclasses.

Moving A Gay, as it turns out, is a hilarious event. Mostly due to my two removals men slowly cottoning on as to which side of the church I sat on. Dale, the lumbering one who used his finger to read, quietly commented "'Ere, mate, you got a lot of clothes, ain't ya?" as we filled my fabulous wardrobe. Alan, the short Irish one, held up a box labelled 'Skincare - Bathroom' and observed it was "Rather heavy for a man."

"Heh, you carting it for your girlfriend?" asked Dale, jamming a pencil behind his ear. I was never sure what the pencil was for - he'd shown an astonishing level of illiteracy by writing my name so slowly and with one of the 'e's backwards.

With somewhat perfect timing, my flouncy new housemate Jay arrived and dispelled any allusions of heterosexuality. Where I had two burly workmen, he'd just emptied the local gay bar and grabbed a load of marys in various states of inebriation to help him. They then proceeded to open boxes and squeal at the things they found.

Hilariously, Dale and Alan doubled their efforts and were out of there in under half an hour. They didn't even stop for the glass of Babycham I offered.

Heh. Naughty Lee.

'Edwardo - Move Me!' - Part II
Oh, that reminds me. Tea bags...

Typical gays - we went to IKEA before we went to the supermarket.

'Edwardo - Move Me!' - Part III
World-renowned fashion designer Zandra Rhodes lives in a building half-way down her street. I do hope I don't accidentally spy her getting into the shower when I'm idly watching the neighbourhood. With my high-definition army-issue sniper sights.

'Edwardo - Move Me!' - Part IV
Never, ever go to IKEA with people who have seen through its shiny Swedish exterior. For once the scales fall from your eyes, the whole business just becomes an (IKEA) catalogue of disasters. Oh, and the people! Oh, the screaming children!

What used to be the shiny yellow entrance to affordable yet stylish furniture now looks like the River Styx to me.

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