best served cold and slightly damp

This is a piece the moron-tenant in the flat next to ours has been working on for the past three or four months, presumably titled "not only do I slam doors as if my life depends on it and invite complete fucking idiots up for Hogmanay only to strand them outside the flat at three in the morning, I (or perhaps my guests) am a manky bastard (or manky bastards)". It will unfortunately have to be taken down soon, before we get a tenant (or tenants) of our own, perhaps by being collected into a freezer bag and popped left outside his door or window with a visible label on one of the days when a representative of the letting agency used by our landlord-neighbour (which will be the same agency we'll initially be using) is due to visit.

The wingpiglet had been a bit twitchy again overnight and, though apparently happy, was again being quite shouty early this morning when Nicky looked as if she needed more sleep so he was again removed from the sleeping-area and taken outside, though rather than buggering about sticking on extra pairs of socks and finding a hat and so on before fitting him into the papoose I experimented with just chucking a hooded cardigan thing on him and tucking him in the pram with a blanket over his legs. Much quicker to set up and get out, even with having to shuffle things round to get the pram past the bike in the hall. Definitely much quicker when walking too, though he can't see as much from inside the hood as he could if being carried. Reasoning that eunning out of milk would be the limiting factor in how far we could go I didn't bother with the changing-bag and kept the space free for tasty breakfast-items.