There was once an Frenchman, an Italian and a Portuguese guy in one room. Well, actually not.
This merging of three cultures occurs on an almost daily basis, the room being our lounge. Half my family is French, Third World Ant is Italian, and Third Roommate is half-Portuguese.
Last night, Third Roommate and I got quite miff with each other during a debate about our continental ancestry. Why we are so adamantly loyal to our roots is beyond me, since we're actually both as South African as boerewors. (Well, not quite, but you get what I mean.)
Third Roommate: Oy, Charles de Gaulle, pass me the ashtray.
Peas: Easy, Vasco da Gama.
Third Roommate: If if weren't for Vasco, Mozambique wouldn't be here today.
Peas: Vasco destroyed the entire country! Alongside Angola!
Third Roommate: Well, let's not go into what the French did when they colonised themselves around the world.
Peas: We might've colonised, but we didn't kill millions of people.
Third Roommate: And what about slavery in the Deep South?
Peas: What about it? At least we have great cuisine! You don't hear anybody saying, "Hmmm, I could really do with an espetada right now."
Third Roommate: Is that garlic I smell, Edith Piaf?
Peas: Well Lourenco Marques, at least our national food isn't a piece of meat wedged between two buns. At least we have wine, cheese and roasted duck.
Third Roommate: Ever heard of Nando's?
Peas: I suppose they have Nando's in Portugal do they?
Third Roommate: At least we weren't taken in two world wars. Twice!
Peas: We're lovers not fighters, Bartholomew Dias. You won't hear anybody saying "Wow, Portuguese lovers are the best in the world." You may hear that French people are great in the sack though.
Third Roommate: So they great in the sack, so what?
Peas: And you won't hear people saying, "Lisbon. Hmmm. More romantic than Paris. Better food. An Eiffel Tower."
Third Roommate: At least when I speak English in Lisbon people respond to me! Rude fucking Frenchies.
Peas: Hey, fuck you.
Third Roommate: Fuck you! You guys need to learn to speak English!
Peas: Well, Fuck. You. Why should we?
Third Roommate: Because, you fucking well should. Now fuck you.
Peas: Yeah well fuck you. Va te faire enculer!
Third Roommate: What does that mean?
Peas: 'Why don't you go and fuck yourself,' that's what it means.
We sulked for ten minutes then decided to leave it. We're more loyal to our roots than we think. Ant, you should've been there. A volatile Italian flying off the handle, going on about pasta sauces and Mussollini, is exactly what we needed here.
I could murder a camembert au fraise coulis.