Back Home To A Huge Erection!

It's my blog, I'll use what title I like - then amuse myself when I check what search terms are used to arrive at this post ...

Well, I go to the foot of my sock!

You can't leave men alone with a nice bit of bare land for five minutes without them wanting to build things on it. This has completely spoilt my view of - um, er, the back end of Netto. When my neighbour gave me a progress report last week she told me that the Asda building was blocking our view of some trees [Cotmanhay Wood] in the distance, I was hoping to still be able to see them. I suggested that she ask the workmen nicely to shove the framework over to one side a bit. Failing that, nip up to the woods with Alan Titchmarsh and a big dollop of Growmore.

[I've just re-read that last sentence - I think my subconscious is getting carried away with the blog title]

We can still see where I used to live at Langley, I phoned my ex up the other week to tell him ... 'I can see your house from here', he replied 'What, from Skegness?'. Oh well ...

Also on arriving home I noticed another major development. On going to the outhouse to get my fish-tank cleaning equipment [bucket and jug], I realised that the grumpy old man had padlocked the door. 'Ooooooh' methinks 'what has he put in here that needs security?' I dashed back in to find the keys. After I'd unlocked the door I squeezed in to look enquiringly around to see what was so valuable that it required a padlock - nothing, it's still full of his bloody crap! He'd do a better job with a sign saying 'BURGLARS THIS WAY' and a big arrow pointing to it, then at least I could fill it up with a better class of crap, ie mine.

This is the same man that has taken to sleeping with his wallet under the pillow whilst at 'the manor'. Very wise of him you may think - yes, right up to the point when I tell you that there's nothing in the wallet except his bus-pass, crumbly discount cards, credit cards and his free Ladbrokes World Cup bets. I pointed out that there was a brand new, not inexpensive laptop sat in the other room, along with an ageing Windows mobile [6.1] phone and half-decent camera, did he think I should sleep with them under my pillow?

He's not actually kept any money in his wallet since he put his back out a few years ago and was told by the 'back-tweaker' that he was suffering from 'fat-wallet syndrome' ... Honestly, that's what he said and he definitely had a point as the GOM's wallet was at least an inch thick [too old to think in metric]. He kept it in the right hand back pocket of his jeans - so twisting his spine whilst sat down - where it developed a life of it's own. Ironing his jeans then was ... interesting, because this pocket [in every pair of jeans] retained the shape of the wallet along with the accompanying faded wear marks, nothing [except maybe a steamroller] would make the pocket go flat.

I've just lost the plot, on my third load of washing I thought that the door lock on the washing machine wasn't working properly. After several attempts at shutting the door and locking it - with various parts of my anatomy [knee is favourite] - and numerous twiddles of the dial, the GOM asked me if I was supposed to press any other button to start it off ...  'Oh, yeah, like which button?' I asked smugly ... 'That one' he replied, pointing to the start/pause button.

I immediately turned my back on the offending washing machine and pressed this button behind my back, hoping that he missed the sleight of hand [and body] trick. Upon the click of the lock and whoosh of water I announced ... 'Oh, it's ok now, fancy that'. Did I fool him? ... No, I could hear him laughing at me from where I went to hide my blushes in our jungle [must do some gardening, er, weeding]. I have had similar lapses of memory mid-cooking with the combination microwave jobby, where half way through repeatedly pressing the temperature button I started pressing the + button and then declared - somewhat annoyed - that the oven bit no longer worked. Tut, it can only get worse from here ...