Have located the worlds squeakiest bed … Norris McWhirter has been contacted and we await confirmation of our entry into the Guinness Book of Records. Roll over … squeak … breath … squeak … I could bloomin’ even check my pulse … 60 squeaks per minute! Hell I f you farted it would probably disintigrate.
I digress of course …
It´s strange what you miss, but to be able to go to a supermarket … I mean a real one with isles. And … glory be, to be able to skid, surf and glide around corners again! We cooked for the first time after 4 months … finally, not have to go to a restaurant. It sounds bizarre but after such a long time you get really sick of it. Unfortunately … er … I was a bit out of practice, though the red wine worked as an anaesthetic.
Being in Australia, we couldn`t afford the standard of accommodation we had grown accustomed to. I even started to have a flashback to University years at Lancaster … the odd unmatching cutlery … the busted hob … the festering unwashed plates … having to wait for the good cutting knife … the kitchen two step (“cha cha chaa”) … ridiculous culinary concoctions (rice with ketchup, eternal supplies of Pot Noodle) … the not-quite-cleanness …unidentified pubes in the shower, on the toilet seat and on the soap … the “please will you go to bed, I am trying to sleep” – ness … piles of forgotten clothes … little postit note messages everywhere ... oh and that smell!
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