12:51 the romanians and the baby talk
It's 100 degrees and there are Romanians in the kitchen. They got here at 7:30 this morning and commenced cutting tile and arguing with each other in gibberish (or, perhaps, Romanian). I got up and left the house... but eventually I had to come back home, and they are still here but have switched from just yelling at each other, to yelling in absurdly high tones of voice. One of them sounds like he's trying to imitate a hysterical woman, and I would laugh but he NEVER STOPS
aargh
Somebody fucking shoot me.
aargh
Somebody fucking shoot me.
3 Comments:
At 9:28 PM,
Ray Nolan said…
Umm, never feed strays?
At 2:22 AM,
Radiohumper said…
I miss Simplton, I miss Ogma, I miss my blog *which I can't access from these poor old Italian Internet stations( and I miss |GOSSIP.
Stay far far from London if your nerves are worked by pushy, intimidatingly gorgeous Former Soviet Republic urchins. They are rather thick on the ground there.
Ogma, you rule for more reasons than I can name, even with my newly fluent Italian vocabulary.
At 10:47 PM,
ogma said…
I clearly do not rule as much as you do. Kick an urchin for me, ok?
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