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With a copy of Barefoot Investor tucked under his arm, Danny Cartwright joined our reporter this afternoon at a popular French Quarter cafe to talk about the outdated social construct of leaving the family home at 18.

“Rent is dead money,” he said.

“I don’t see any point in it. Why give your money to someone else?”

While the 28-year-old concedes that when he tells people he still lives at home, the conversation lulls until somebody changes the subject – but he doesn’t care.

Our reporter asked if he was saving for a house or even a deposit, to which the four-acre-foreheaded youngster replied, ‘no.’

“I don’t think you understand,” said Danny.

“Renting is dead money. When I go overseas and experience new cultures and whatnot, it’s not dead money. It’s the opposite, in fact. I’m just lucky Mum and Dad don’t mind me living at home still. They don’t even make me chip in for bills, for some reason unbeknown to me!”

“Plus, if I moved out to some Old City District slum, Mum would worry about me.”

Cartwright went on to describe his parent’s home up in the leafy, exclusive enclave of Betoota Grove.

He told our reporter that his room is the old self-contained guestroom which sits atop the garage.

“When Dad starts to mower at like 7 in the morning on a Sunday, it can get bit testy. Especially if I’m hungover. Once I lost it and called him a fuck head from my bedroom window. He came running up the stairs with a length of poly pipe and flogged me with it until I started crying. Still better than being a rentcuck!”

The Advocate reached out to Danny’s father for comment and received a short but to-the-point reply.

“I have created a monster,” he said.

“Renting isn’t dead money when it keeps you from sleeping in a park. Fuck it, I’ll kick him out and see how he goes!”

“I’m interested to see how he’d fair by himself in the real world.”

More to come.



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