Today, I’m going to post about nothing of any real relevance. Which is basically what I do all the time on this website. And keeping in line with the tradition, I’m only doing so in order to escape the fact I have a shit load of work to do.

I used to be big on videogames; the most exciting thing that could happen to me is reading games magazines and the release of some game I wanted for ages. It was the best of times, it was the geekiest of times. I used to clean my room, have a shower, shave, cut my nails and fucking GROOM myself before playing a new game for the first time. Like it was some supermodel that was blind enough to decide to have sex with me… and I didn’t even have to pay!!

Then I came to University where I discovered the wonders of alcohol, amongst other things such as drugs and debt. So now I can’t really afford to get excited about games since I’m too busy failing my degree and being a wild, social butterfly on ecstasy, a friendship finding fiend. So, whilst I’m waiting for games to become so cheap that homeless people will pay me to take them off their hands, I have to resort to watching OTHER people play them on Youtube. Yes, I realise that makes me even more of  a loser than I used to be, considering I actually used to play the bloody things as opposed to watching some stranger doing all the fun bits for me and uploading them to the internets.

I’d love to make this a big post on how much of a geek I am and how the sight of Sonic the Hedgehog turns me on beyond belief (it must be the way he wears nothing but red shoes… mmm…), but no. There is a more serious matter at hand here.

I was playing watching someone else play that new game, “Assassin’s Creed 2″, which is set in Italy and you play as an Italian guy who actually speaks REAL ITALIAN. The developers were thinking outside of the box when they made this, you see. Anyways, as I was watching I couldn’t help thinking how amazing Renaissance Italy seems, everything about it is so classy, romantic and cultured. The language itself is beautiful sounding. And then it got me thinking…
Why can’t my housemate sound like that?

See, I live with a Italian bouncer, who is from Italy and speaks Italian; he’s the works. He eats pizza, occasionally cooks pasta and has Parmesan cheese in the fridge, which he always blames me for stealing. I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to do with Parmesan cheese considering my diet consists of vodka, beer and instant noodles, but I digress; this dude is Italian. You can tell because beyond all the stereotypical things I listed, his last name is something like ‘Giovanni’. Nuff said. But he’s nothing like the Italian people video games have taught me about! He’s not charming, he’s no amazing chef, he doesn’t collect coins and shoot fireballs, doesn’t have a magic carpet and he’s no smooth talker. I can see none of this amazing Venice type stuff when he’s trying to subtly hint that he will use his (illegal!) tazer on me if I don’t wash up my dishes.
The fact I know he’s trying to subtly threaten me with electricity hints that being subtle isn’t his strong point. Is it even possible to be subtle about something like that? It’s like being Zeus or an electric eel and trying to pretend you won’t shock someone. You’re fucking Zeus/electric eel! It’s what you do!*

Anyways, I’m constantly having to listen to him SHOUTING Italian words down his phone. At least I think it’s a phone, I don’t see him doing it. Judging by the volume of his voice, I’m guessing he has two cup threaded to Italy to talk to his mother or something… and the reception is bad, I don’t know. I always thought German was the most unpleasant language to have to listen to, like someone trying to cough up a hissing cat… but this guy really puts Italian to shame. Maybe “Assassin’s Creed 2″ lied to me, because for the most part the characters speak English, but with an Italian accent.
Is it possible to NOT shout in Italian? There’s a frigging wall and ceiling between us and I can hear you, if the phone placed conveniently next to your mouth as you do it has trouble picking up the sound, can I introduce you to my friend “email”? He’s quite patient and you “talk” by doing this thing called “typing”, and you can do that as loud as you want!

So after accepting that the Italian is the language equivalent of a big firework and NOT the smooth, chocolatey goodness with a caramel centre, I wondered if it could get any worse.
Hint: wondering if it could get any worse usually tends to make some higher power PROVE that yes, actually; it can get worse.

Now he’s had a friend move in, who low and behold is also Italian, from Italy and she speaks Italian. So now he can shout ALL THE TIME! YAAAYYY!! It’s quite annoying, because I keep hearing them having shouting matches and exchanging verbal blows, thinking that they’re going to try and kill each other and hide the body on some pizza base and use the blood as sauce on some spaghetti and feed me it, which I’ll probably eat because I can’t really afford food. But then, 5 minutes later I hear them laughing as if nothing happened. Either Italian people descended from angry Goldfish and kept the memory span, or they just like to shout a lot. Or both.

* If my housemate is reading this, in no way, shape or form was I implying you are an electric eel. Please don’t taze me