I rent out rooms in my house. Two at a time. They pay the mortgage. I buy the toilet rolls, and rule the roost with a rod of iron. My rules are your rules, and they are three:

1. you must be gay, foreign or ginger to live in my house


2. meet mr muscle. he will be used after each of your culinary experimets, from the cheese sarnie to the four-course feast


3. lock the doors, the windows, the cupboards and all. there are hordes of burglars right outside just waiting to take the playstation. again. (note to burglars: when you take a playstation, leave the memory card behind! you will be much loved by all your victims for this small act of kindness. and the nation will lose fewer working days due to economically active adults having to start tombraider over again from the beginning)