an idiot in london


Wednesday, 22nd November.
Meet the landlord

Now this has nothing to do with anything, but let's just see how many people at Logica have the same name as some famous Australians...

Hmm, there's a John Howard (he's the Prime Minister, for those of you who haven't noticed), let's see if there's a Paul, there's a Seamus but no Paul. How about Dennis Walter? No. Then again some people would debate as to whether he is a famous Australian. (My favourite Dennis Walter moment came when he was still host of the nightly Keno draw, and he used to read out the numbers like a bingo caller, "legs 11", "22 two little ducks" and all that. Then came the classic: "69 having a good time". Oh Dennis.)

Jesualenko? No, no Jesualenkos. There's a Jerka Jenkins. Ooooh, there's a Lee Murray, so close to a Les Murray. (I'm talking about the soccer pundit, not the "famous" poet. Hey, don't get me started.)

Anyway, tonight I met with the landlord at James' place. (Apparently my moving in is not a done deal.) He's the kind of bloke that went to the right school and has done well for himself. You'll all be proud of me, I kept a straight face through the entire thing, even when he made reference to my earlier statement about not wanting to move in with pot heads, except he referred to them as "hop heads". OK, perhaps it's not that amusing, but I was smiling on the inside.

Should find out tomorrow if I'm going to be given the green light. Or red light. Or the amber light (amber light: stop if it's safe to do so, or as I once heard, "go like all buggery").