My mortgage broker is a cunt

There are many things that have happened in the past month. But tonight, I am going to dedicate this post to my mortgage advisor, Mr Cuntypants.

Several weeks ago, we got a house move date. We advised Mr Cuntypants of this. At the time, he seemed normal.

He asked us for various ID. We provided these quickly, as our lawyer advised that 6 weeks was not long.

He asked us for more ID, some of which contained information already in the previous batch. We provided this and he applied for a mortgage.

Then - and this is the bit that alarm bells began to sound, faintly - we were turned down for the mortgage on the basis that even although our combined incomes well exceeded the minimum amount required, the mortgage company needed one of us to earn a higher proportion from one income source.

This is the sort of thing a mortgage advisor should know before applying, no? But he made a big deal that he hadn't paid a non refundable £300 fee upfront.

Mr Cuntypants said that this was ok, we would still move, and applied for another mortgage. This required more ID.

We asked if we were still ok to move. He insisted we were, so we made all the arragements associated with moving a household to a different community.

Today, ahead of the move, our lawyer pointed out we still had no mortgage, something that had been niggling away at me, but Mr Cuntypants had assured us was ok.

We began calling his office for updates. Halfway through, he e-mailed us - one of the things that makes him particularly cunty is that he refuses to call - and said, actually, he didn't know if we could move next week. Because the mortgage company had lost our paperwork.

Horror.

After more e-mails, offering to put in more cash upfront, and asking him to speak to the mortgage company on our behalf, he announced that, actually, we might still be able to move after all.

But we won't know until Friday.

Fucker.