When I left the house this morning, there was an asbestos removal truck parked outside the porter's lodge. Huh.
Though I'm now wondering whether someone filled in an online maintenance form about asbestos while they were drunk, as apparently they take those really seriously. The stair handrail in the house where Sam lives is now reinforced with plastic bars because he filled in a maintenance form all "STAIRS ARE WOBBLY, DANGEROUS".
I'm trying to make my "I just realised I'm no good at English or indeed ANYTHING, ANYTHING" funk go away by listening to the Dire Straits. It's working. Also I've got new classy black trousers that in and of themselves will ensure that I get a job. Somewhere. Yeah!
(The last paragraph brought to you by me having become British. "Realised", "I've got", "trousers". I must move to Vancouver immediately to practise damage limitation. Agh, "practise".)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Hvorfor Vancouver? Er det anerkjent som det beste stedet å amerikanisere engelsken sin på?
Hey u! Samuel var nettopp i Cambridge, han stod utenfor Clare og ropte etter deg men til ingen nytte
Post a Comment