EL GIMPO


We met the goon on a Saturday - his house was an oasis of calm after seeing a horrible old man's house that smelt like a horrible old man. He actually managed to get us to buy his house by having music playing and coffee brewing just like in "How to sell your house you goon" magazine.

His Girlfriend was present as was his cat which he offered to throw in. He was less stupid than the horrible old man and didn't pester us too much as we wandered around. He didn't seem very happy but she was very civil - pretty much the behaviour of a recently arguing couple.

He had "original" sketches of Mickey Mouse on the stair wall which he had impulsively bought in a Disney Theme Park. He had a large framed certificate of black beltness in Tae Kwon Do in his third bedroom / work from home room. We didn't think much about his gimpish qualities taking the view that no one is perfect, we decided to buy his house. I never saw him again.

My second experience of the Gimpo was when he refused to accept our first offer for his house claiming that his shit blue curtains, carpet, double bed (which 2 months later we'd be hacking to pieces with a swiss army knife) washing machine and so much other shit meant that he could not drop the price. My suspicion is that our estate agent confided in him that my girlfriends first sentence after my collected offer of £59G was "But if he won't take that we'll go up to sixty two!"

I never met the Gimp again but I did move into his house as you know. Aside from the mess and litter we had bought for three grand he also left a fair amount of unsolicited gimp sputum such as a collection of wine bottles - a years supply of gimp food, a bullworker and a full sixe plastic dustbin full of brown sludge.

Sarah was visibly rankled when I arrived as she pottered around cleaning up after the goon. I tried to salvage something from the situation by suggesting we keep whatever was usable. This proved impossible since the stuff we didn't want clearly diagnosed him as a pervert and as such we had to dispose of his perfectly well functioning draining board organiser despite it's obvious youth.

The things he left that we'd rather he'd chucked away include:

Freezer full of shitty food.
Loads of ice.
Little gay moon and star shaped ice thingies.
Cupboards full of food - many bottles and jars of sauces, oils etc including a two litre bottle of Flora oil with a best before date of February 1992!
Inflatable saxaphone.
Shed full of knackered open bags of rock hard cement.
Litter.
An uncancelled contract with his gardeners.
A roof full of telltale boxes including four crystal goblet boxes and a 16 bit multimedia kit!
Smelly bog brush in small plastic piss pool.

The things he left that we kept and enjoyed include:

Hosepipe.
Extension lead.
Two long planks.
Barbecue.
Carrier bag of amusing photos.
Christmas tree with multi function flashing light set.


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