Wednesday, 3 December 2008

Duplo

Finally the bad weather is back in Italy.

Italians love to moan about the English weather being “schifo”(sp?) and how it's constantly tiddling with rain in London. The last two weeks in Rome have been thunderstorms, hailstones and torrential rain. I got to work yesterday to find a car outside my school. Nothing too unusual about that except this one had a tree on top of it from my school's front yard that had blown over during the biblical tempest in the early hours. The roof had caved in, the front windscreen was fucked and the wing mirrors were dangling by wires. The owner was standing nearby waiting for the Council to pull the tree off.

“Mmm...a little bit damaged” she says.

“Yeah, just a bit”.

Buying an umbrella is easy in Rome as the slightest bit of drizzle gets Eastern Europeans and Africans appearing like the shopkeeper from Mr Ben to offer you ones in all shapes and sizes. I opted for the supermarket thinking the quality would be superior and paid 3 Euros for a compact jobby, only to have the sodding thing invert as I was navigating the back lawn of the flats this morning. After much cursing and struggling I chucked it on the roof of the car park and arrived at work piss-wet through.

George “Wankpot” Bush gave an interview that beggars belief yesterday on CNN. The transcript was printed off by my boss and shown around to much giggling from the school teachers, particularly the Yanks. In it he says that he believes Barack Obama won because Americans are sick of his Presidency and that he knows he's not liked. Err...we know that but you're not supposed to say it out loud you daft little bastard.

In April of this year Facebook shut my account down. They didn't say why and the only clue I got was when I tried to log in and got a red message flash up saying that the account was disabled by an administrator for violating their terms of service. No explanation and apart from a couple of photos of my stepfather smiling there was absolutely no content on there that was even remotely dodgy. I emailed them requesting they delete the account completely but they replied that due to “safety and security” they couldn't, that this decision was final and thanked me for “your understanding” (which the fuckers didn't have). They still didn't say what they thought I'd done.

So...no problem. I just set up a new account on a different email and an hour later had contacted nearly all the people that I was no longer “Friends” with due to this draconian, Big Brother- esque behaviour.

Three weeks ago I decided I wasn't comfortable with them holding my photos, personal info and emails indefinitely so emailed them again saying if they didn't either delete the account completely or undisable it I would take legal action and get the gutter Press involved.

Yesterday while checking my new account, one of the “People You May Know” was me.

Account reactivated after eight months, but still without explanation of why they shut it down in the first place. I now have two accounts and a total of 334 contacts on both, 63 of which overlap. Life can be a bowl of cherries or a bowl of toenails.

Christmas will be spent in England. Easyjet are cheaper than the trains in the UK but unfortunately after flying in I will then have to brave British Rail and it's ghastly, overpriced service to get to the Midlands and then oop norf for festivities. I fancied hitch hiking but then remembered just how bastard cold England is in winter.

The teenage girls in my class are still raving about Twilight. One or two of them even rave about Edward constantly and bring the book and its sequels in. Today I asked them:

“If Edward is a vampire and can't sweat, bleed or even go to the toilet then how does he get Isabelle pregnant?”

Cue shrieks of indignation and horror from two of them who hadn't read that far up in the series yet.

Hee! Hee!

Saw V is out on Friday here and hopefully will be in original language. Just what I need after five weeks living on value brand pasta is a bit of gratuitous celluloid violence. Best not have a hotdog when I go in.

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