Crimes of Passion

I don’t know what it’s like for the rest of you, toiling away in our lucky lands; but for some of us, being those shifty-eyed Sydney-siders who loiter about the place, the rental property market at the moment seems to shift in leaps and bounds.

We had mates of ours recently, who are more of a western suburbs (hills district) persuasion cop some pretty hefty rental rises – to the extent of 20-25%. As a consequence, they’re now once again wading into the murky waters of newspaper clippings and online cork boards in an attempt to hunt for that perfect bargain.

We, on the other hand, already pay a fairly high price for our accommodation, and so the generalised 5% increase is now on the cards come our new lease date, which isn’t too far off – and that’s ok. By contrast, we’re in a position (I live with a workmate and his Mrs.) to afford it. Plus it’s like 5mins from work. Win.

However, our friends, who I’d mentioned previously, had raised the issue of pooling our resources together (seeing as we together pay a considerable sum of money each week in rent) and sharing some kind of “party mansion”. My guess is “party mansion” means big house with lots of space, a patio, a big fuck-off kitchen and one bathroom.

Which, while its an entertaining prospect, isn’t really practical or pragmatic when you’re late-20’s odd and like your “quiet” time. So when our new lease came up, we applied the diplomatic approach and said “no thanks”..  and that is when the sky shattered and the sirens began their distant wail.

It’s like the world tore asunder, and some ghastly beast has crawled out from the cracks of reality. It’s as if a personal affront has been committed, and by saying no, we’ve now taken our finely-honed bed-and-breakfast razor, and sliced through the slime-encrusted umbilical chord of an otherwise cheerfully agreeable mateship.

And so it leads me to the questions of the day:

To what extremes do you seek the perfect abode?
Or, to what extent have you sacrificed your personal needs to share a place with others?

Have we now breached an era, due to our society’s communal walls closing in around us, where your ability to hovel in small spaces is an expectation and asset? Or do we still, as Australians, dream of those sparse open plains and relative solitude from our neighbors?

I raise this in interest, as I hear you Mexicans and our Darwinians up north aren’t that far behind.

That’s right. It’s Monday, it’s night – and you know what that means!

That means it’s the day before Tuesday!

I hear, however, that Phonic has stolen Mondays for Kara.  So if we don’t get something going, maybe we can re-schedule for last minute Tuesday madness.  We’re still the “Monday nighters” though motherfuckers, Phonic doesn’t get to take that shit away from me.

The Monday Nighters. That’s tonight, 7-8pm AEST. Death by Tray.

Do you have tray?

Stay tuned for irresistible anecdotes.