You were once residents of this lovely house. Actually, you, your mother, your friends who lived illegally in the caravan parked in the driveway and hooked up to the house, the dog you didn’t ask permission to keep, the engine body you kept in the laundry and the no doubt garbage bagfulls of dope from the awesome hydroponic set-up you had going on in the shed, all lived in this house. However, my point is, you no longer live in this house.

Unfortunately, we have been getting mail. And visits from police. And debt collectors.

It was bad enough when you abandoned the property, leaving us to explain to the gas company that, no, we were NOT going to pay your $700 gas bill. That took us about eight months of hassles from the gas company and their hired thugs to sort out.

Then the police dropped by for a visit. “Is Ms Holt here?” they ask. “No,” we say. “How do I know you’re not lying,” Mr Policeman says, “Because we’re telling the truth,” we say. “The lady who lives here is the daughter of the owner of the property,” we say. “Can you prove that,” he says. “We can,” we say, as we whip out licenses. “Are you friends of Ms Holt?” he asks. “No,” we say… and then explain all of the above. “Well, I have a warrant,” Mr Policeman says. “Officially you’re not supposed to read it, but I have to leave it here in case she comes back, so I’m guessing you’ll read it. Throw it away if she doesn’t return in three months,” he says.

We read it. It was chuckle worthy. Ms Holt, you are a moron. And the police also now know that you and yours were growing naughty plants in our backyard.

Now, Mr Allan… tsk tsk tsk. Please let me remind you to pay your phone bill on time. The nice people from Telstra keep sending me overdue notices with lots of late fees. I would call you, since your number is here on the letter, though I find it funny that Telstra have your number and won’t call you to find out your correct address - I mean, SURELY they could look that up on their system and find out where you live. I guess not.

Also, may I take this opportunity, Mr Allan, to remind you that joining the Victorian Ambulance service is very beneficial, say, if one topples over somewhere in Collingwood and ends up being driven to St Vincents Hospital. Fox Symes has sent a letter to let you know that you still owe them about $7000 for that quick ride. Actually, I think they mean business.

Now, Mrs Allan. Sharon. Shazzaaaaaaah… I know you’re thoroughly enjoying spending your Centrelink money (which I know you get because you’re still claiming rent assistance for this place) at the TAB, but I think it’s high time you told Club TAB and Crown Casino that you no longer live here too… unless you think you’re sharing the joys of gambling to which I must respectfully decline as I have enough of my own vices without adding to the pile.

Kind regards,

Ren