A Soap Impression

Somebody mentioned "the ridiculousness of life" the other day.  I'm not sure I quite understood what that meant until - well, until now.  I'll take a brief moment to sum up what's been happening in, by, and around Flat 2, London, the UK. Please listen, laugh, & understand.  Or, if you dare, empathize.

4 long-lost friends/siblings/roommates have been brought together under 1 roof.  Now, mind you, we're in the UK, where yes words may hold the same letters & even elicit similar pronunciations, but also where words must necessarily be translated into - well, into the range of normalcy - in order to be accurately understood & thus fully appreciated.  I'll explain.

'1 roof' really just means  some cement slathered (yes, slathered) over a modest, 2 bedroom apartment, 1 bedroom of which is about the size of a modest walk-in closet in the average American home, but also in which 1 whole human being, sparing no appendages & possessing complete awareness, is expected to relax "comfortably" in the only piece of furniture fitting inside: a "twin bed" pushed up against a closet whose doors can't open unless the "twin bed" itself is first removed through the window (because there just isn't any place for the "remover" of the "twin bed" to stand unless it's in the doorway).  Of course, twins must not have had long life spans in the UK, as by 'twin bed' the British clearly meant 'only child bed' - unless of course twins were the size of medium sized watermelons.  There just ain't no way there was ever room for twins on that mattress!

'4 long-lost friends/siblings/roommates' means:

• 1 female, a recently graduated, very mini-sized, Hindu doctor who finds joy in toilet humor & who is constantly consulted for her "medical opinion" regarding all sorts of important issues, including how to arrange chicken breast nuggets on an oven pan.  
• 1 female, a short, jibber-jabber talking, Dominican whose idea of "sightseeing London" includes rotating libraries on a daily basis & who, in order to "ration" her food supply, constantly stores her snacks in cabinets inaccessible to her reach but just ends up spending most of her indoor life standing on a kitchen chair.
• 1 female, an unreliable, bicycle-riding Argentinean, who takes pride in possessing calculators, enjoys leaving iTunes on repeat, & can probably be summed up in the term space cadet. 
• 1 male, a tall, curly-haired, worm-like animal who thinks chicken looks and tastes like pork, & who insists on having long ethernet cords plugged into our laptops at all times in case he intuitively senses a "soccer emergency" while he's - in the hallway - and feels the need to "urgently verify" the status of www.ole.com.ar, www.gol.com, & countless other sites.

2 are sleeping in beds, 1 on a 2-person couch, & the 4th on a "soldier's cot" which, might I add, is in every sense of the word a "soldier's cot": long, narrow, & well, should there be an ambush of some sort & should the person sleeping on the soldier's cot so much as lift a finger, the rusty, squeaky-sounding, springs holding him up like a lump of human meat will creak & wake up everyone, including our drunk, alcoholic, dinosaur-roaring neighbors, who I should mention are usually unconscious.

And to sum it all up, by 'London' we are referring to the only city in the world in which you can buy vegetables at wholesale price in the food market... but only between the hours of 2am & 8am. God forbid anyone actually take sleeping seriously!

The Beatles - Happiness is a Warm Gun

Besos.