Hubris

A pinch and a punch and a damn good thrashing for the first of the month.

Brad Clay and I hung out together tonight and wrote a list of what we’re looking for in our new flatmate. Here’s the list, copied out exactly from the Bible:

• Sky TV (digital)
• Cook us breakfast in the weekend
• they must have a ‘role’ ie: bring home videos etc
• with own wok and cooking skills
• not be an Internet nerd (but internet gf/bf is okay if we get Randell)
• MUST like pop music, dancing, Dawson’s Creek
• able to clean up after themselves but not be like Bob Saget
• must not be Bob Saget
• we shouldn’t want to shag them, because as we all know you must never ever screw the crew Joanna, but they should have cute friends
• have a cellphone (not really)
• have a party trick, a certain “gene se qua, what the french call…..”
• must have a job benificial to the flat (ie bakery products!)
• would help if they were Robbie Williams (but not essential)
• NOT a 1st year preferably, our age
• have flatted before, must be able to tell us why they left their last flat
• have a waffle iron
• must think someone wearing an animal suit is funny
• fix-it type
• does not steal street signs
• two dining chairs
• not a star-fucker
• “media savvy”
• who will hang out with us (but not clingy)
• puff the magic dragon what?
• go on a flat mission
• survive a month without us
• be an initiator

My daddy came to see me tonihgt cos he’s in Auckland escorting around a bunch of Taiwanese, who NZ trades with but won’t recognize as a seperate nation. Go figure. Anyways, I served him tea and cake, and felt ever so grown up.