Best house south of the river

WHAT IS WRONG WITH EVERYONE? I’M ACTUALLY LOSING MY MIND HERE! Do you enjoy suffering? Do you want to keep living in a your DUMP of a house with a horde of feral raccoons for housemates? I SWEAR TO GOD, THIS ROOM IS PERFECT AND YET HERE WE ARE, STILL ADVERTISING IT! Are you people allergic to happiness? DOES YOUR BRAIN SHORT-CIRCUIT WHEN YOU HEAR “SPACIOUS HOUSE”?

The House (aka the dream palace you’re too thick to take):
This house is SPACIOUS. Like, so spacious that sometimes we lose Josh for days because he’s wandering around the living room, which is the size of a FOOTBALL FIELD (okay, not literally, but BIGGER than wherever you’re rotting in right now). And we have a TV that could serve as a second sun, and yet, here you are IGNORING IT. The kitchen? YOU WON’T BELIEVE IT. Enough fridge space to store all your sad act disappointing meal-prep containers that you’ll never actually eat. There’s even a garden. That’s right—A GARDEN. YOU KNOW, THE THING WITH GRASS? Sun all day, BBQ-ready. But who cares, right? You’ll probably just sit inside staring at a wall because you’re dim.

The Room (aka the dream room you’re clearly too foolish to grab):
It’s a DOUBLE ROOM with an EN-SUITE! Do you know what that means? You don’t have to share a bathroom with anyone. Your own shower, your own sink—YOU WON’T HAVE TO LOOK AT ANYONE ELSE’S HAIR IN THE DRAIN EVER AGAIN! Why are you still reading this? You should be sprinting here. The window? It’s enormous. Sunshine floods the room. But hey, you probably prefer dank, windowless boxes, don’t you? WHO NEEDS LIGHT?! You’d probably burst into flames if you saw the sun you ghoul.

The Area (but you probably live under a rock and have no mates so who cares):
BROCKLEY. ZONE 2. Do these words mean nothing to you? FIVE minutes to the Overground. FIFTEEN minutes to central London. That’s right—CENTRAL. You could practically smell Big Ben from here. But no, you’d rather live in Zone 7 in some nightmare hole where the only transport option is “walking for miles.” We’ve got Sainsbury’s nearby, the big kind, where you can buy actual food, not just weird cans of beans. Restaurants everywhere. AND SKEHANS PUB. It’s the best pub in London. BEST. What are you waiting for? A handwritten invitation from the Queen? Get out of your hovel and into the BEST AREA YOU’VE EVER SEEN.

Transport (but you probably still use a horse and cart because you’re feeble minded):
Oh my GOD. We’ve got Overground, buses, and trains. Do you need a personal chauffeur? Because I swear, Brockley Overground will have you zooming to central London in 15 minutes flat. But nah, you’d probably rather walk to work through the wilderness. There’s a bus right outside, too. But I’m sure that’s just TOO CONVENIENT for you.

The Housemates (aka the legends you’re too scared to live with):
Josh? Legend. He plays basketball and climbs mountains like he’s some kind of bear. Luke? Another legend. He’s running marathons and meal-prepping while you’re probably sitting on the sofa eating Doritos. Chris? Absolute legend. He’s into museums and live music. YOU DON’T DESERVE THEM! We don’t fight, we don’t burn the house down, we actually like each other. CAN YOU HANDLE THAT?! Probably not.

The Details (but you probably can’t handle reading numbers, count or spell):
Rent: £725. Bills: £150. Deposit: £894. Move in November 5th. Yes, that’s right, November 5th. Why? BECAUSE THAT’S WHEN HARRY LEAVES, OKAY?

What do you want from us? A red carpet? JUST MESSAGE US. We’re not looking for a unicorn. We’re looking for a normal, functional adult who doesn’t make us want to crawl into a cave. But I guess that’s too much to ask. Maybe YOU’RE AFRAID OF HAPPINESS. Or sunlight. Or…success?

Just take the room already. I CAN’T KEEP DOING THIS. I CAN’T KEEP SHOWING FREAKS AROUND THE HOUSE.