OK
How about this then?
The building work is going OK on the house. Life is busy and tiring. In fact the world can stop any time now for me.
This little episode has just about finished off the last remnants of my fragile pride.
Yesterday I went to the loo. Needed my morning poo, quite frankly.
I laid a towel over the floor boards so nobody in the kitchen could look up and inadvertently catch a glimpse, and then I sat down and had my poo as quietly as I could cos the builders were around.
Not easy is it?
I know it is feeble, but I feel I should point out here, that like many on the site, I am on a concoction of medication. This means I now produce the most evil piles in Christendom ... and they were not flattering before, let me tell you!
Back to the point. I flushed the loo.
To my horror
I then heard a loud man-scream and a frantic squelching of great big running feet. :worried:
'Turns out' one of my builders had removed the poo pipe outside just below the level of the bathroom and he was digging a new trench to replace the old sewer pipe in the ground directly under where the poo pipe should have been.
Yes .... I think you might have got it. :blush:
The other builders were killing themselves laughing at him whilst they shouted up at me not to let anybody else use the loo cos I had just s--t (their language, not mine - sorry) on some chap called Damian ...
In actual fact this was a lie. I missed him, but did give him a nasty fright forcing him to move faster than he had in many years.
Obviously I was mortified, :blush::blush::blush: so I figured the best thing I could do was at least get down there fast and remove the offending item so he could carry on digging whilst keeping his breakfast in his stomach.
Sad to relate, I had a hazy recollection of ingesting sweetcorn at tea time the day before.
Anyway, galvanized and red-faced, I went down, apologized, and approached the trench. I actually experienced a tinge of relief because there were no bits of sweetcorn attached to the outside wall of the house. It had clearly dropped straight down nice and tidily, I thought.
Hmm ... No such luck. The medication I suppose. Anyway - the 'thing' had traveled downwards three stories, hit the ground hard and ricocheted EVERYWHERE!
I mean, it was IMPOSSIBLE to find something to pick up - if you get my meaning. EVERYWHERE, it was. Truly madly badly.
I raced back up to the bathroom to flush the loo a few times in the hope that would wash it away, but no. With no pipe attached the water just sputtered and belched out not really firing anywhere in particular, so there was no directed force to blast anything satisfactorily.
All I could think to do was race back down again, chuck some sand over it and leave the site fast. All the racing was about trying to avoid the builders having a good look at it. Funny how possessive we are about keeping our poos secret, isn't it? Can't imagine why.
Anyway, to my shame, that's what I did. And now everybody in the village knows I pood on a Burnley fan.
It seems I will be a legend amongst Rovers supporters.
Shame I daren't leave the house to received my fans.
Well - if any of you can beat this one I'd be awfully grateful.
