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  • 1 month later...

Busy weekend: Stripped about 140sqft of ancient woodchip in the front room. When Isay stripped; I made it look fucking child's play with my skillz. Sanded and filled the cornices and skirtings before putting up 1200 grade lininig paper tonight. My front room chimney breast is now amongst the smoothest breasts in Christendom.    

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  • 2 weeks later...
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  • 2 weeks later...

Place I rent for a few days week when I work away from home is exclusively mine as it's owner works abroad. I cause him no shit expect nothing and will piss off if he needs the place back in a hurry. It is 150 miles from home and I am there 4 or 5 nights a week. No messing about like hotels and I can leave shit there. He comes home every 8-10 weeks and I piss off home and commute for a week from hotels.

 

Anyway I messaged him to say the dishwasher was fucked but no big deal as it is just me I can sort washing a few dishes. He insisted on a fix and a bloke came round and said it was fucked. He came home few weeks later and said he'll order a new one but must have forgot.

Anyway I was bored yesterday and took it too bits replaced a few screws a new string in the door latch. I now have a dishwasher again. Fuck you repair men.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Was helping my mate out with his allotment last night when I stood on a rusty nail,  sharp as fuck,  must've been about 4 inches long.  Went in through the sole of my trainer,  right up in through the arch of my left foot. 

 

Took my trainer off,  poured some Red Stripe over the wound and then went back to work. 

 

Finished by drinking 4 more cans of Red Stripe,  half a bottle of Lindisfarne mead and a bag of McCoy Flame Grilled Steak Crips,  sat round the bonfire listening to some tunes. 

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Was helping my mate out with his allotment last night when I stood on a rusty nail,  sharp as fuck,  must've been about 4 inches long.  Went in through the sole of my trainer,  right up in through the arch of my left foot. 

 

Took my trainer off,  poured some Red Stripe over the wound and then went back to work. 

 

Finished by drinking 4 more cans of Red Stripe,  half a bottle of Lindisfarne mead and a bag of McCoy Flame Grilled Steak Crips,  sat round the bonfire listening to some tunes.

 

I can smell the testosterone from here. Sounds like a top night. (Apart from the rusty nail in your foot obviously)

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  • 1 month later...

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