»23rd May 2005

B.1.1.1

Yesterday I came one step closer to uncovering the plot against me... and my margarine.
The photo below is the only known photo of Sam, who I have so often referred to as the Mystery Man.

It is believed that Sam has left the flat for good, he was taking an awful lot of stuff from his flat to his car. Presuming he has finished his exams or not bothered going to them I doubt he would want to stay around any longer than he had to, I mean it's not as if he's bothered to get to know us up to this point. This was on friday. After the weekend when I returned to the flat, I had to make sure that Sam was indeed not in his flat. Careful monitoring of noise levels emanating from across the hall brought me to the conclusion that he was not in his flat. A few weeks ago I found out from Danny that his key opens Nick's door too. Danny's flat is B.1.1.4, and Nick's is B.1.1.3. Now, I had a good idea that my key for flat B.1.1.2 would open the now vacant B.1.1.1. Seeing as I wasn't going to revise for the politics exam the next day and that I didn't have anything better to do, why not see if my hypothesis was correct? Well you could argue I was invading Sam's privacy and that I didn't have any right blah, blah. But I could not pass up the chance to get a clearer idea of the sophistication of Sam's monitoring of my movements over the year.

I can't make me opening the door sound that dramatic, it's not like the air suddenly rushed into the room or that behind the door lurked a demon or an advanced computer array or something. The flat was almost empty. It seems Sam had made a half arsed attempt to tidy his flat before he left, though he had procured the flat's Henry hoover and left it in there. I thus had a legitimate reason to have entered the flat, that I needed the hoover, because erm- the one in the kitchen was broke at the time or something. Anyway, the flat smelt quite strongly of Sam's trademark aftershave, confirming my suspicions that he had had a 40 gallon oil drum of the stuff in there or something. Sam's flat in terms of shape and size is actually quite good, slightly larger than Danny and Nick's flat though not as long and corridor-like as mine, it's even south facing so it gets light, the only direct light from outside I get in my flat is reflected off the rich kid's car windscreens, giving my bathroom a rather eerie illumination.


Yep, that's a blurry photo taken from the 209, and yes, that's the reflection of the ethereal camera floating in the field there. I can't help it if the damn buses are double glazed.

It seemed that Sam had left a towel and a rug in his wardrobe, suggesting he was either careless, didn't want them anyway or that he just doesn't like rugs. Now I do like rugs, so if it's still there come moving out day then I'm going to do some procurement myself. Anyway, I decided it was time that I got out of the flat, before the smell of aftershave overcome me or Sam returned with a detachment of shocktroopers ready to kick my ass. I made haste out of the flat with the Henry hoover in tow safe in the knowledge that I knew a little bit more about Sam than I hoped he knew about me. Information is the first step to defeating the enemy and all that right?
Oh and I got a better photo of the ill-named Morley based auto-valeting service.

Seeing as this update is so full of photos, why not add another eh? This one was taken when we had a power cut a few weeks ago, quite why such a cool green light is not always on is a subject of much debate. You'd be surprised how useful a battery powered amp is in a power cut, Psycho Mim can go fuck herself.



Extar, over, out.

I have a picture of Fred Madison on my wardrobe.