All alone

Well it seems that Paper Mache Tower is getting quite lonely. Everyone has left to their homelands to celebrate the new year. Those left, Ging hunter and Chef are put in charge to keep the Tower in semi working order. For the past few days Ging Hunter, Camel and Chef have been keeping it real by smoking up a storm, visiting London sites and eating calzones at the infamous Stingray Globe on Columbia Road. Christmas was a treat, it turned in to nightclub at the wee hours of Christmas day followed by a banquet at some very up market hotel, kinda outta our league. Here is a pic of our christmas feast and craziness. I think I (chef) have opened up a million christmas crackers these past few days, the remanence still laying about the house. What will the new year

bring? A farewell of a housemate? A electrician? or a plumber?

Lets hope just the last two hehe

xxx

Setting logs adrift down a canadian river

I came home last night, to the usual thing you see as soon as you walk through our front door. Our toilet. This time, chef was pouring boiling water down the loo to help send the logs adrift.

She advised night time was not the time to be using the toilet. Well of course! the pipes had been frozen over by the night time temperatures, and nothing was going down!

I stepped back outside and took a wee on the footpath instead, while chef continued to pour hot water. Paper Mache tennants, please do your number twos in the day time. Thanks, RTF.

How to get our Kitchen working

Welcome to the Paper Mache Mezzanine, Internet Cafe, former home to Goliath, this krypton kitchen factor challenges the most agile and intelligent of beings to be able to have hot water and hot food simultaneously.

Please note: Kitchen does not amount to the level of tidiness, order or spacial integrity seen in this picture

Farewell Goliath

I didn't have much time with Goliath, we spent that one time gazing into each others eyes in the stairwell, but the tension between us got too much. It was nothing he said, it was more the surprise visits in the morning, and the the fact he would hide in the cupboard and eat candles.

I found the hole he used to come from; it was about right for goliath, behind the trash bin and about high enough for a small pony. I had a role of Duct Tape, and I knew what I had to do. It was hard closing the door, but at least it didn't have to come to battle, because it could have got very messy.

Every now and then he'll give a little scratch from below the shower.

Keep it real out there Goliath.

Trash Mountain - The Saga Continues

It was about two weeks after this pile (pictured below), a council worker began smashing his fist on our door. Chef was chilling in the Mezz at this time (internet cafe and kitchen). She was greeted at the door by the local rubbish man, he was a bit serious to say the least. His time picking up 'our' mountains of trash was over as far as he was concerned. He threatened with fines, and started shouting at neighbours to ask is it was theirs.

Chef held her ground, bravely in the face of trash and explained that it was not ours. How could it be? at this point (unfortunately not photographed) It was shoulder high with plaster board, jib and massive bags of building materials.

Could it be the building site next door?

The council guy was not having it and was on the phone to the land lord in no time. So really, if it was ours, there would be nothing left in the house... as Frenchie said, we couldn't make that pile if we tried our hardest! He left after digging through our one bag of trash to find a letter with my name on it (RTF).

We were in a dilemma, he wanted to sting us 5K... yeah right!

I had to go to work.

On my way out, I saw the landlord (who I will refer to as Mr Hilton). Mr Hilton was a little flustered, the council had tracked him down! All the same questions ran through his mind: where did this trash come from, the building site has it's own skip, and our house isn't empty!

So good luck Mr Hilton. So far the trash baddies have left us alone, but we will see. For now, at least this is now in the hands of the esteemed owner of Paper Mache Tower.

Kitchen, Internet Cafe, the home of Goliath.

Goliath Status at 1930 hrs - no where to be seen.

Mega Rat, and Power Outage

Paper Mache Tower is cold, insulated by bits of paper, torn by small children and pieced together with flour and water, it has little affinity with warmth during these december days.

At 5am this morning, I got up to brave the freezing stairs to go to the toilet (the bunker). I had heard of the giant rat, from behind the kitchen cupboards, but no one had seen it, until now.

It was at my door. We looked eye to eye.

He galloped down the stairs, stopped... looked back and smashed his way back into the kitchen.

I call him Goliath. about the size of a small horse but with the face of Tony Blair.

Several hours later, the power went down. The two days of joy since getting heating in our house had come to a pitiful end. The ice on the windows was not helping.

We huddled in the Penthouse Gardens, upstairs home of Frenchie and Camel, and persisted with the land lord to get our power back on.

We huddled in fetal, and I did jumping jacks, and then suddenly... the power came back on. We jumped for joy! I ran back down to the kitchen to check it was true throughout the lower levels... it was!

But Goliath was there too, enjoying the new found warmth. I looked for him, it seemed he did not want my company either, so he had left.

Using awesome manly ingenuity, I taped the hole, I suspected was it's entrance. Could this be the end of Goliath?

Welcome to Paper Mache Tower

Home of RTF, Play Doh, MJ, Chef, Ginge Hunter, Frenchie, and Camel.

A random gathering of 7 flatmates in London, from almost every english speaking country in the world except Great Britain.