Moving in London, the tale of a disaster.

This weekend was so fucked up. We had to move out from our flat to the opposite side of the city in Ealing. At first everything went well the cardboard boxes arrived on time and we started to pack all our stuff in them. The problems started when Bob them "Man with the Van" didn't show up and his phone was apparently dead as well. Fuck you Bob, you lousy SOB!!!.
Then we started calling some of our friends who got other friends with cars. At last a glimmer of hope appeared and two guys with a Fiat shortly after that. We managed to pack half of our stuff in the car and off we went. At this point everything seemed cool and right on track despite the traffic jams and heavy traffic (sunday afternoon!!!) and after just about an hour and half we arrived in Ealing. That's when the real trouble started. The car broke down and half of our stuff was still in New Providence Wharf in the lobby. And that's basically where we are since then...
The morale of the story? First of all : Don't trust anybody who is called Bob and owns a fuckin' van. Ditch all the shit you don't need any more. Packing all the shit was a troubling experience. We own so much useless junk ... or maybe all that shit started to own us.

The worst part of all this is that we have to do this all over again in a month's time from Ealing to Fulham. Moving sucks.