So you couldn't be bothered to put them in a bag and stick them in a bin.... FFS, you give parents a bad name
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I'm interested to know what it was about these presumably barely-identifiable pair of under-crackers that gave you the confidence to declare them "clearly not mine"?
Men who deal with this kind of stuff seem entirely unaware of how profoundly uninterested anyone else is about the mechanics of plumbing. A fella came round yesterday and insisted on taking me into the basement to point out all of the various pipes and which flats they belong to.
Still, at least he didn't rape me.
I remember having to cut one of the kids out of their baby grow, in the bath, after their shíte started coming out of the collar of the grow... :puke:
Not once did I think about flushing the totally besmirched garment down the toilet.
M, you are a wrong 'un.
But we already knew that.
Your boiler, a gas fired heating device, has no connection whatsoever with your waste water removal pipes. Surely even a whining filthy workshy money lending heebie soft-hand like yourself can comprehend this. You have fallen for a spurious correlation.
Flushing knickers down the bog will almost always end in serious problems. The cotton, unlike tissue paper, does not dissolve and will almost certainly block your drain, partially at first, then fully as the rest of your waste material attaches itself to the knickers.
The correlation you may have noticed between the plumber's visit and your wife's fanny size increasing markedly is far from spurious and is a direct cause and effect phenomenon.
What about if I told you that the chaps who serviced the boiler also fiddled around with the stopcock while they were here?
Also, you've essentially ignored my original question which was about the loud gurgling noises emanating from our plug holes that pre-date the unfortunate knickers-flushing incident by several weeks.
What's causing that?
Having now been through the whole Jeeves oeuvre twice I tried my first Blandings and , though I managed to finish, felt something was missing. At the mention in the book of Sir Roderick Glossop I became misty eyed and nostalgic for Bertie and Jeeves.
Have just finished Ben Schott's Jeeves and the King of Clubs and found it very wide of the mark. Far too many snappy one liners for Bertram methinks.
Have you tried Faulks' attempt? I fancy you'd be too much the purist b to have bothered but 'red will be much less of a literary snob.
Burney "My favourite thing in the Psmith books is the way Mike Jackson at short notice pops to Lord's and knocks off a quick hundred. We've all been there."
Hello Dennis Compton!
He used to avail himself of his night-on-the-tiles DJ before topping up the Brylcreem and changing into his whites
Did they have pads in his day?
I looked it up and apparently Derek Pringle was in Chariots of Fire. :yikes:
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If he'd stuck with acting, we could have been spared the sight of him trundling towards Viv Richards (it's always Viv Richards in my mind), releasing an innocuous delivery and seeing Richards dispatch it with ease while speccy Del looked perplexed.
HOW DID THAT MAN GET 40-ODD CAPS, LA? HOW!?? :furious: