Watching a new game show on BBC called The Code, in which contestants have to answer questions to win a guess at a number from a randomly generated 3 digit code.
The contestants were guessing the third and last digit of the code from a selection of three or four numbers.
"SEVEN!", bellows Tony.
They guess (not seven), and they guess wrong. They get the next question wrong, and they're out of the game.
Tony: "Shoulda gone seven."
Me: "But we don't know it was seven."
Tony: "No, coz last week I done it. I says five, stupid cow goes three, doesn't she!? And it was five!"
It's been said that my housemate could be a one man sit-com. I've forgotten hundreds of Tony moments so, mostly for my own record, I'm going to post them here, but they're good for sharing. It might seem a bit unfair, and maybe it is, but I want it to be known: I like the guy, he's welcome and comfortable in my house; but he's so odd, with an enchanting and aggravatingly childlike naivety. He's like my teenage son. My teenage, 10 years my senior, son.
Monday, 25 April 2016
The Code
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