Hairy Arsed Bricklayers

Tomorrow is the day that, hopefully, I say goodbye to someone I first met some 6 months ago. Our relationship has swung from high maintenance to occasional invisibility. I have to say that the journey has been a long and arduous one.

You might think all relationships have to be nurtured and protected, but I insist, dear reader that this one was doomed to die, a long and painful death.

I should have remembered those valuable lessons, learned at my fathers knee...... & never, never, never trust a builder!

You know he's the wrong man for the job when he walks through the door, his eyes light up as he realises that he's dealing with .......A WOMAN..... he gasps and says "tut! tut! tut!.....I don't know who put that in for you love.......but it's all going to have to come out......!"

So, we've had the "We'll have it finished by the end of the week...." & inevitably we're 6 months further on. "Sorry I couldn't make it yesterday, the engine's gone in me motor....." & his son came round in his "motor" but couldn't give his father a lift. Selfish bastard! "Oooh! You can't have that there love. No-one puts them there!" when he really means it's too bloody difficult to do, but the customer always think that they're right and after all I am a skilled tradesman and know better than a girl!

So! We're 6 months further on & the work is complete, "apart from that little bit of plastering that won't take me more than 'arf an hour, love. I give you my word I'll be there by 8:30am tomorrow"...................

Well watch this space & look out for a hairy arsed builder called Byron.......... Do not let him through the door, even if you have to improvise and brick the bloody thing up yourself..............