In my last post I misjudged the power of Mrs Fillyjonk's prophecy.
We got a phonecall yesterday to inform us that, despite telling us that the flat in Bevendean was ours to rent, giving us the forms, and most importantly, making us put £300 deposit down on it, the agents had given it to someone else. Fuckers. So our little dream place has vanished as quickly as it came.
Oh Mrs Fillyjonk. I bow down to your wisdom, and worship at the altar of disaster!
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