Me staying on top of everything in the house. Don't get me wrong I love my wife but she is a messy bastard
Daily I run the hoover round, load and unload the dishwasher (fnaar fnaar), make the bed and gather up all of the fucking scattered scatter cushions, keep the toilets gleaming (which is some achievement given the mayhem I rain down on them), the windows are always cleaned, the cars detailed regular and cleaned weekly.
Yet when she decides to have a purge and do the cleaning herself usually on a Saturday morning when I'm dealing with a particular spiteful hangover it's fucking Adele at full bore on the sound system, hoover smashing into things, furniture being overturned, shit being moved and all very aggressively. As if she's having to break her back keeping the home tidy, when I'm actual fact maybe a spray of Mr sheen and a microfiber over the flat surfaces and wall hangings and a floor mop is all that's required.
Now I'm also floundering with my movements. I feel like I've got a paving slab lodged in my lower colon hovering tantalisingly near my rectum and it is stubbornly refusing to leave me.
As I type I'm imagining this behemoth as a jBo jet. Say a 747 and I've just managed to get the nose cone and cockpit out. The rest, fuselage, passengers first class and steerage, the wings and tail are all refusing to budge.
This is doubly annoying because I've been doing some very loose, soft ones lately at a rate of 2 a day so to now find this aircraft lodged in the hangar is unpleasant.
Aha! You are thinking, that dirty bastard is talking about poo again as a lack of real opinion and thought. Well my dilemma now is this. If I take, as I should, some herbal medication to loosen this badboy up and send him on his way. I know I will be doing so in about 12 hours time tops, when I will be somewhere I really don't want to receive the 40 second warning my tummy gives me, or that I get the warning but this jet then decides to fire up its engines and come out at such velocity it would wake michael Schumacher up
Realising that it was a mistake to let the girlfriend book our post uni travelling this summer as I'm now missing Charlton first game of the season....
Realising that it was a mistake to let the girlfriend book our poat uni travelling this summer as I'm now missing Charlton first game of the season....
Don't sweat that man, if it was "I'm missing the penultimate game of thrones" then you should bludgeon her with an argos catalogue until she cancels the plans
Realising that it was a mistake to let the girlfriend book our poat uni travelling this summer as I'm now missing Charlton first game of the season....
Don't sweat that man, if it was "I'm missing the penultimate game of thrones" then you should bludgeon her with an argos catalogue until she cancels the plans
Haha fair point. Just a little annoying as even with all the shit going on I've still made a point of going to the first game of the season as I always have done since I started going..
Me staying on top of everything in the house. Don't get me wrong I love my wife but she is a messy bastard
Daily I run the hoover round, load and unload the dishwasher (fnaar fnaar), make the bed and gather up all of the fucking scattered scatter cushions, keep the toilets gleaming (which is some achievement given the mayhem I rain down on them), the windows are always cleaned, the cars detailed regular and cleaned weekly.
Yet when she decides to have a purge and do the cleaning herself usually on a Saturday morning when I'm dealing with a particular spiteful hangover it's fucking Adele at full bore on the sound system, hoover smashing into things, furniture being overturned, shit being moved and all very aggressively. As if she's having to break her back keeping the home tidy, when I'm actual fact maybe a spray of Mr sheen and a microfiber over the flat surfaces and wall hangings and a floor mop is all that's required.
Now I'm also floundering with my movements. I feel like I've got a paving slab lodged in my lower colon hovering tantalisingly near my rectum and it is stubbornly refusing to leave me.
As I type I'm imagining this behemoth as a jBo jet. Say a 747 and I've just managed to get the nose cone and cockpit out. The rest, fuselage, passengers first class and steerage, the wings and tail are all refusing to budge.
This is doubly annoying because I've been doing some very loose, soft ones lately at a rate of 2 a day so to now find this aircraft lodged in the hangar is unpleasant.
Aha! You are thinking, that dirty bastard is talking about poo again as a lack of real opinion and thought. Well my dilemma now is this. If I take, as I should, some herbal medication to loosen this badboy up and send him on his way. I know I will be doing so in about 12 hours time tops, when I will be somewhere I really don't want to receive the 40 second warning my tummy gives me, or that I get the warning but this jet then decides to fire up its engines and come out at such velocity it would wake michael Schumacher up
Realising that it was a mistake to let the girlfriend book our post uni travelling this summer as I'm now missing Charlton first game of the season....
Jesus... After the whole parking situation you either need to train her a lot better or just get rid mate!!
Phone companies using the fact that there are no longer any European roaming charges as a sales point. You were the feckers that used to charge these exorbitant fees, and you only stopped because you were made to. Do not take the credit.
League 1 is Division 3 isn't it? Unless you started following football (like me in post 1992) then it's Div 2.
Annoyed with myself for adopting this 'Championship', 'League 1' nonsense. Can tolerate the Premiership, but the second tier being called the Championship grinds my gears.
The car park at my gym is designed so you drive forwards into the space, then reverse quite easily out. If you reverse into the space, it's a nightmare getting out of it as the car to the side is angled in a way that stops you turning past it.
Not only do people do it, then have an Austin Powers-like five minutes of shuffling forwards and backwards to get out, but they do it again the next day. Absolute morons.
Whoever designed my office phone so that if you leave a caller on hold whilst you go grab some paperwork it emits an ear-piercing screech every 3 seconds.
TFL reinforcing the cynicism surrounding climate change laws. To avoid a £100 daily charge for using my motorhome within the M25 I could have a special filter fitted, which apparently costs a four figure sum and can takes up to three months to complete! A filter! I tried calling TFL yesterday too to get some clarification on the subject and after listening to many options (frequently the same options repeated) an automated voice finally told me that they were closed.
TFL reinforcing the cynicism surrounding climate change laws. To avoid a £100 daily charge for using my motorhome within the M25 I could have a special filter fitted, which apparently costs a four figure sum and can takes up to three months to complete! A filter! I tried calling TFL yesterday too to get some clarification on the subject and after listening to many options (frequently the same options repeated) an automated voice finally told me that they were closed.
TFL reinforcing the cynicism surrounding climate change laws. To avoid a £100 daily charge for using my motorhome within the M25 I could have a special filter fitted, which apparently costs a four figure sum and can takes up to three months to complete! A filter! I tried calling TFL yesterday too to get some clarification on the subject and after listening to many options (frequently the same options repeated) an automated voice finally told me that they were closed.
Train companies that add new time restrictions to tickets (so that you are now obliged to purchase a more expensive ticket) as a way of driving up profits that conveniently bypasses the rail regulator because it isn't a fare increase. Well de facto it is. Bastards. That's even before we get to the fact that their websites are continuing to show the ticket as available for the journey times you input, even though the ticket is invalid at those times. Then taking 2 weeks (and still waiting) to respond to my very restrained and polite email about it.
Comments
Daily I run the hoover round, load and unload the dishwasher (fnaar fnaar), make the bed and gather up all of the fucking scattered scatter cushions, keep the toilets gleaming (which is some achievement given the mayhem I rain down on them), the windows are always cleaned, the cars detailed regular and cleaned weekly.
Yet when she decides to have a purge and do the cleaning herself usually on a Saturday morning when I'm dealing with a particular spiteful hangover it's fucking Adele at full bore on the sound system, hoover smashing into things, furniture being overturned, shit being moved and all very aggressively. As if she's having to break her back keeping the home tidy, when I'm actual fact maybe a spray of Mr sheen and a microfiber over the flat surfaces and wall hangings and a floor mop is all that's required.
Now I'm also floundering with my movements. I feel like I've got a paving slab lodged in my lower colon hovering tantalisingly near my rectum and it is stubbornly refusing to leave me.
As I type I'm imagining this behemoth as a jBo jet. Say a 747 and I've just managed to get the nose cone and cockpit out. The rest, fuselage, passengers first class and steerage, the wings and tail are all refusing to budge.
This is doubly annoying because I've been doing some very loose, soft ones lately at a rate of 2 a day so to now find this aircraft lodged in the hangar is unpleasant.
Aha! You are thinking, that dirty bastard is talking about poo again as a lack of real opinion and thought. Well my dilemma now is this. If I take, as I should, some herbal medication to loosen this badboy up and send him on his way. I know I will be doing so in about 12 hours time tops, when I will be somewhere I really don't want to receive the 40 second warning my tummy gives me, or that I get the warning but this jet then decides to fire up its engines and come out at such velocity it would wake michael Schumacher up
Their opinions would be of more value if their pay and their company's pay structure were also revealed
The car park at my gym is designed so you drive forwards into the space, then reverse quite easily out. If you reverse into the space, it's a nightmare getting out of it as the car to the side is angled in a way that stops you turning past it.
Not only do people do it, then have an Austin Powers-like five minutes of shuffling forwards and backwards to get out, but they do it again the next day. Absolute morons.
To avoid a £100 daily charge for using my motorhome within the M25 I could have a special filter fitted, which apparently costs a four figure sum and can takes up to three months to complete! A filter!
I tried calling TFL yesterday too to get some clarification on the subject and after listening to many options (frequently the same options repeated) an automated voice finally told me that they were closed.
Well de facto it is. Bastards.
That's even before we get to the fact that their websites are continuing to show the ticket as available for the journey times you input, even though the ticket is invalid at those times.
Then taking 2 weeks (and still waiting) to respond to my very restrained and polite email about it.
The thing is that it's usually coupled with this annoying indignant/patronising facial expression.
Delivered a slow finger-wag back at some Doris who made me look up from my episode of The Sopranos this morning.