On day, HE called on the phone landline, and Yan asked nosily, who’s that guy, he is you blockey? In my broken english, I heard “bollockey”. For the next few weeks, happy to have learnt a new word, I used “bollockey” as often as I could.
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Our house was a nice but old Victorian mansion, owned by a vicar. He would always come uninvited the day before the rent was due, then on the day. I thought it was really odd: why would he fear that we would not pay him, he was a vicar…
One Sunday, as the two of us were speaking quietly in the kitchen, Yan admired that he was spitting in Dave’s shampoo every time Dave was an arse. I laughed, looking astonished, opening big eyes then said:” no way, me too!!” We both burst out laughing.
From that moment on, I kept my shampoo in my […]
