Re: The Noodle Compound
I wanna hear that story
One day, one of the walls in my room (not this house but long ago and a different place) was covered in woodlice. I killed the first 20. By midnight I killed a 100. Desperately, I phoned my l andlord, despite the hour. He really was the nicest landlord you can think of, he drove up to the place and gave me a spray and calmed me down a little.
So I sprayed the bloody room.
I forgot. It was my ONLY room. Now my room was poisoned. How was I going to sleep in that? Well, not.
So I decided to sit in the phone room. (it was a bit like a student place but in a vicarage and there was a coin phone in a seperate room). But who can you phone at 2 am? I decided to phone an American friend of mine who I often phoned to, for HIM this would be a normal time for a change.
We chatted away and he told me he got a new job. I thought that he said in a porn store. For half an hour of our talk I was convinced he said that, and I hate porn passionately and with a very good reason too, but I wasn't going to be moralistic. But the talk went awkward and he realised something was off.
It took him a bit to figure out what.
Then he started laughing, uncontrollably. What he had told me was he got a job in a pawn shop, a term I was not familiar with of course (my first language is Dutch and my English isn't great, so I don't know all the words).
On explaining it, it made me laugh too.