My landlord is Jimi Hendrix

The saga of our very flighty landlord is a whole 'nother story.

The issue at hand is that our landlord is Jimi Hendrix.

So, my Brazilian flatmate bought 3 posters to spruce our rather bare living room (or the "lounge room" as my Aussie flatmate would say): one Charlie Chaplin, a Pulp Fiction and a Jimi Hendrix.

My American roomie came home one day, saw the poster and exclaimed that it looked just like our landlord. We almost died from the side-splitting laughter because...well...he does look just like Jimi. He just needs wilder hair and a bare chest.

Just this evening as we were getting ready for bed, my mobile rang. It was our landlord, ready to come pick up my roommate's overdue rent. He entered our flat and the first thing he said was "Jimi Hendrix! My dad was friends with him."

Roomie and I exchanged glances and I exploded into laughter. I couldn't help it.

We're both convinced that we're paying rent to Jimi Hendrix's long-lost spawn.