Friday, 29 July 2011

Mash Oppression.

A fair whack's changed since I wrote on here last.

First up, I finished university. Not only that, but I wasn't a total failure. I would whole heartedly like to dedicate my 2:1 in Politics to the YouTube channels of various American high school students who really seemed to know their stuff. Well done America.

After that, I moved to Manchester. It's all been fairly lovely so far. This is somewhat regardless of the fact that I'm living with two Spanish guys who speak absolutely no English. All I've actually found out about Carlos and Juan so far is that they are both chefs and one of them does really smelly shits.

It was actually remarkably nostalgic the first time I went to use the toilet after he'd caused a smell that made me wonder whether I should call for a plumber or a priest. I used to live with two Spanish guys in The Hague, and strangely enough one of them smelt exactly the same. Ah, the good times, eh?

They seem nice enough though, although for all I know they could be warlords on the run. They do have some strange habits however.

The main one of these is that they spend most of their day watching films, on silent, but with English subtitles. I have spent much time debating why anyone would do this, and all I can come up with is that although they admire his good looks and physical acting ability, they just can't stand Orlando Blooms voice. Which is fair enough, I guess.

The final really strange thing they do is talk loudly in Spanish, then occasionally start whispering when I walk in the room. Now, I speak about two words of Spanish, and unless they were slagging off the way I say 'Hello', I wouldn't know what they were saying. Nor would I ever have had any reason to think they were talking about me. Maybe they are warlords and are scared the house is bugged.

Yeah, that'll be it. Nothing to do with the fact I'm usually just serving up a massive plate of Cheesy Mash as they're tucking into their Tapas.