On Saturday morning J reports that the basement flooded overnight at the Fallback Position. Our nice French Moroccan landlady, the one who is not a former burlesque performer from New York, is soaked in water. She has turned the water mains off, which is a problem because I would like to take a shower. The next day, we discover that she has failed
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"I do not know where I will find a virgin in ess eff - at least now that the Star Wars-themed goth club is over."
*zing!*
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My sources inform me that the Star Wars-themed nightclub was actually a lot of dorky fun. I kind of regret deciding to sit it out.
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The bit where people with lightsabres were dancing to "Doctorin' the Tardis" was maybe a little overkill, but.
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