One for the ladies
In their utilitarian wisdom, the local water company decided to replace our meter. Apparently, the old device was knackered and belonged in the Science Museum (along with what’s left of British manufacturing). A couple of big lads turned up in fetching hi viz vests and butch safety helmets (it takes a real man to carry off yellow with style). After a bit of bump and grind, the meter was replaced in a thrice. Off they trotted, job done. I decided to make a cuppa and went to the tap to fill the kettle. Up went the lever, down came the trickle. I’ve commented on our lacklustre sprinkle before but this was beyond ridiculous – more no-flow than low-flow. A quick bell to Anglian Water and, following a brief conversation about the whereabouts of my stop-cock (no idea), an emergency plumber was dispatched to my rescue. Oh God, I thought. It’ll be days of whore’s wipes, takeaways and pre-programmed poos before my stop-cock gets a good seeing to. But, no. A hour later, a handsome chappy in cargo pants turned up with wrench it hand. “Where’s your stop-cock?” he asked. “No idea,” I replied. He searched high and low and discovered the mechanism lurking behind the washing machine. As he knelt down to inspect my crevice, he flashed his own little crack. It was crowned with a tiny tuft of wispy hair. I stifled a wolf-whistle. A firm twist of the wrist and whoosh, the source of life gushed forth. Most satisfying. So, we now have sufficient water pressure to run a small hydro-electric dam. It never rains but it pours.
Talking of flashing cracks, there’s a website dedicated to the glory of builder’s bums. I have no words.
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You are so naughty! I wonder if that plumber knows you have been writing about him?
Probably not but he was a nice chap so I hope he wouldn’t mind.
After reading that – I have no words either!
There’s a first
This would never have happened in Turkey as you would have made tea whilst the original plumbers were still present. I guess there is both an upside and a downside to that.
Ah, the Turkish way!
I’ve been struck dumb…
Or bum struck?
As we say “your good craic”
Certainly was!
One for the ladies my a**e. Sounds like it was your stop cock that was front and centre here m’dear!
Ok, maybe I’m being a little dishonest!
What an attractive site – I mean sight! Something tells me those hands have never touched brick-dust. But if they have, he can come and do me an extension (so to speak) any time!
Down boy!
Whoa, Jack! I opened this at work and was greeted by that guy’s bottom! NSFW!
Also, loved the term “whore’s wipes” and who knew that enough people show their bums around town to constitute an entire website. Crazy!
Crazy indeed! I blame all these low slung jeans you see about
. . so where’s Bob’s black and white cat? Or is that the postman?
Pilchard got run down by the meter men!
A Finbar Saunders post if ever there was one
I take that as a compliment
I’m speechless (for once).
Kinda has that affect doesn’t it?
If only the plumbers crack was like that!!
Sadly mine is not!!
We can all dream.
I am having building work done but sadly, the builder doesn’t look like that!
He looks gorgeous but I suspect he’s never got his hands dirty. Best stick with the pros!
We call it plumber’s crack in Canada. Same effect though.