It's In The Bag
I've got one of those really exciting "it's in the bag" orders, which isn't quite yet signed and sealed. It's been approaching bagging stage since around April. It definitely is in the bag though, they've told me as much, it's simply a case of signing on the dotted line. They've probably just misplaced their pen or something. A few last minute hitches to iron out and it'll all get sorted by the weekend. Probably. It should have got sorted a few weeks ago but he unexpectedly went away on holiday you see. It wasn't his fault as he didn't know he was going on holiday until he actually went. Then when he should have been back from holiday he wasn't 'cos he'd picked up a virus whilst on holiday. Easily done, no need to worry. It'll all get sorted this week, so stop going on about it will you?
Which reminds me of the long convoluted story about me discussing what a pain MrsN#1 was in the pub one day, and my mate said why don't you just kill her, end of problem? Chop her up into little pieces and put her in black bags (extra strong obviously) and leave her out for the binmen. That's what he'd done apparently and it worked a treat, they'll obligingly take anything round here he thought, and hey presto they did! He went on to live a blissful nag-free life in front of Sky Sports (no, not HD they didn't have it in those days). He even bought one of those mini fridges full of beer that they sell when the World Cup is on. Wide screen plasma TV (very expensive back then), with all the channels mind, including the "male interest" ones (only the ones with ladies in, not them others that they have nowadays, I mean he wasn't a perv or anything). What bliss I thought, I'll have a slice of that. Except I'll save money by moving our existing fridge into the lounge, and that will hold more beer than those little things, smart see.
So that's what I did as soon as I got home, it's always handy when you keep a spade in the bedroom anyway. Chopped her up in the bath, which come to think of it was the one and only time that I cleaned the bath after using it, but why have a dog and bark yourself eh? She, also for the one and only time, was most helpful by conveniently fitting into a roll of ten extra strong from Do It All and away she went to the end of the drive.
However I was understandably a little nervous when the binmen came around the next day, I was even more nervous when instead of taking the bags away one of them came up and knocked on the door.
"Is there a problem?" I coolly enquired.
"Yes there is mate, he said, we can't take this one 'cos the arse is hanging out of it."
Honest, that really did happen.
Which reminds me of the long convoluted story about me discussing what a pain MrsN#1 was in the pub one day, and my mate said why don't you just kill her, end of problem? Chop her up into little pieces and put her in black bags (extra strong obviously) and leave her out for the binmen. That's what he'd done apparently and it worked a treat, they'll obligingly take anything round here he thought, and hey presto they did! He went on to live a blissful nag-free life in front of Sky Sports (no, not HD they didn't have it in those days). He even bought one of those mini fridges full of beer that they sell when the World Cup is on. Wide screen plasma TV (very expensive back then), with all the channels mind, including the "male interest" ones (only the ones with ladies in, not them others that they have nowadays, I mean he wasn't a perv or anything). What bliss I thought, I'll have a slice of that. Except I'll save money by moving our existing fridge into the lounge, and that will hold more beer than those little things, smart see.
So that's what I did as soon as I got home, it's always handy when you keep a spade in the bedroom anyway. Chopped her up in the bath, which come to think of it was the one and only time that I cleaned the bath after using it, but why have a dog and bark yourself eh? She, also for the one and only time, was most helpful by conveniently fitting into a roll of ten extra strong from Do It All and away she went to the end of the drive.
However I was understandably a little nervous when the binmen came around the next day, I was even more nervous when instead of taking the bags away one of them came up and knocked on the door.
"Is there a problem?" I coolly enquired.
"Yes there is mate, he said, we can't take this one 'cos the arse is hanging out of it."
Honest, that really did happen.
