Now, as a student I was always warned by my older peers that Wu-Tang was a place of misery. A dark forbidding place, nestling on the extreme edge of civilised York, waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting city and flood it with a torrent of drugs, vice and chavs. Only the strong city walls prevented this creeping horror. That and the massive police cordon thrown around the estate. Armed police guards patrolled the front line between Wu-Tang and civilisation, the last bastion of hope amongst the well-to-do York denizens. In this role the Police were not unlike Vlad the Impaler and his defence of Europe against the rolling hordes of Turks in the 15th Century. The Police Chief of York had yet to call for mass impalement of the Orcs that populate Wu-Tang, but my peers assured me it wasn't long off.
Impale some sense into them!
When I actually ventured into Wu-Tang as a student I discovered that I had been lied to. Hearsay and fear had played a part in painting Wu-Tang as a den of inequity where even a wrong look would suffice to be on the receiving end of a good stabbing. Then I realised the people that were spreading these rumours were middle class students used to a comfortable life in the Shropshire Pile waited on hand and foot by servants and butlers. Wu-Tang was a little rough around the edges, yes, there were gangs of roaming kids, indeed, but all it was was a down-at-heel council estate. Nothing more. The people who filled my pretty little head with such nonsense had never been to score drugs in places like Pitsmoor, or got lost after a gig in the centre of Moss Side. No, they had no idea of how bad places can get. Wu-Tang Hall is a slightly scruffy part of the otherwise extremely higher middle class York.
I say Quentin! If we build a club, all the working class men can gather there, drink their ale and beat their wives to their hearts content and never bother the rest of York again!
But this wasn't the reason why I was concerned about the house being in Wu-Tang Hall, I was actually worried that the place would be a shit hole. The estate is full of cheap student housing and as a professional this concerned me. I am now above taking anything that comes my way in order to be housed. I will not settle for mouldy kitchens, draughty bathrooms or bedrooms overlooking the sewage treatment plant. But when we arrived I was pleasantly surprised by the place, it was above standard, tastefully furnished and the only spot of mould I saw was in the front bedroom. There was even a vacuum cleaner for Lauren. We took the place there and then and met Steve for a fish finger sandwich for lunch.
Why does the Captain have fishy fingers?
Arrival at home brought fresh news from the Job Centre. As you will recall, I have been dicked about and punished for attempting to better myself by actually finding work. You will recall my In Depth Review. You will, no doubt, remember that the man who took me through the review process filled in the form on my behalf, asked me to sign two boxes and told me everything had been completed satisfactorily. Not so... After our trip to York, I was presented in the post with the form the bloke had filled out for me with the words 'PLEASE COMPLETE ALL RELEVANT SECTIONS' written in Biro and highlighted on the front page. I looked through it and saw at least nine sections that had been left blank by the guy at the Job Centre which were awaiting my attention. I over turned the table in rage and screamed! How much more of my time was being wasted by the inefficient cunts at the Job Centre? How the fuck do they go through their process of selection of people for employment there? Do they give every one a form to fill at their interview and the ones who fill the least sections in get the job? Are prospective employees given a task of carrying out the simplest of procedures and the ones that fail spectacularly by nailing their hands to a desk or just sit on the floor sucking their feet are welcomed into the position? I am in the process of writing a letter of complaint about this very situation. Watch this space.
Ooooooh!! I could crush a grape!!!!
On a final note, I forgot to mention previously that Hrönn has started a blog about knitting, now I'm not the world's greatest knitting fan but she does make some nice things, so here is a PLUG.
