To those who may not know, this means that a few weeks before exchanging contracts on a new house and with us having spent over £1000 so far, the vendor has suddenly decided that she is not going to sell the house to us, but rather to someone else who has magically appeared at the eleventh hour.
This, needless to say, makes me rather annoyed.
This evil vendor, this so-called “Mrs Kierney” made us accelerate our part of the process, thus spending even more money because she wanted a late June exchange. Her reason for this? She wanted to be able to go on holiday without having to worry if we would screw her.
Ah sweet irony.
Well Mrs Kierney, I hope that you enjoy your fucking holiday. I hope you enjoy it all the way into the ocean, as your aeroplane plunges into catastrophe. I hope that you get abducted by swarthy men who force you to have sex with a donkey. I hope that you get very burnt by the sun and are thus discomforted by wearing a t-shirt.
I would enjoy it very much if your new super-buyer who is “definitely going to exchange contracts this week!” decides that he isn’t going to buy after all. Then let you come crawling back to us and we’ll see what happens. Something involving sand, jam, ants and a labia I should think.
You have no honour. You are a slimy proto-human with the morals of a black widow. You are also ugly.
I guess this rules out the poolside BBQ at the next London DopeFest. Well, shit.
Can she just do this, kabbes? How firm is your position in English law, seeing as you were already taking steps and spending money to get the financials straight?
I’m afraid, Coldie, that this is one area where English law (not to put too fine a point on it) sucks. There is lots of talk about how it can be improved, but little action. This is made even more frustrating by the fact that just over the border in Scotland, the system is oodles better and prevents just this.
Don’t give up on the poolside BBQ just yet though! I’m still gonna move house and I’m gonna find something even better. YOU HEAR THAT KIERNEY-SLUG? EVEN BETTER!
Gazumping.
Me thinks that the wretched beast in question was waiting for you to come up with more money, and Gazump the mystery buyer in return.
Let me take this oppertunity to wish a plauge of locusts upon her washing line, leaving her nothing to wear except the big Granny’s Apple Catchers with the skidmarks from lineker scoring 6 in Mexico 86.
Coldie, how about this as a possible replacement? No swimming pool admittedly, but one hell of a sweet looking little place. We’re seeing it on Saturday.
pan
(incidentally - noone even tried to rate my rant. Could that be because it was flawless?)
Blinkingduck - yeah. And the reason I’m looking in that area rather than where I work (which is another town in Surrey, not even London) is because relatively speaking it’s bloody cheap.
