Mrs Blog took her self off to Aberdeen yesterday afternoon to spend some time with daughter-blog (the one with the goggles who cannot throw a stone into the sea).
As she left she told me how nice it would be for me to have the rest of the day to myself to do what ever I wanted. She also told me that if I could find time she would quote like me to put together a stool she had found in IKEA.
My balloon was burst. Previous encounters with IKEA had prepared me for the task ahead. I waved goodbye to Mrs Blog and retreated to the house with a heavy heart. My whole weekend to myself hinged on being able to assemble the latest purchase - a metal and plastic stool called Fanghorn (or something like that).
Previous encounters with Bumlard, Wilidik and Oyball had prepared me for what lay ahead.
With screwdriver and spanner set located I set about opening up the packaging. The usual instruction leaflet was there - no words just stupid little pictures that make no bloody sense. As you have probably guessed most of my weekend disappeared in trying to assemble Mrs Blog's Fanghorn Stool.
As she left she told me how nice it would be for me to have the rest of the day to myself to do what ever I wanted. She also told me that if I could find time she would quote like me to put together a stool she had found in IKEA.
My balloon was burst. Previous encounters with IKEA had prepared me for the task ahead. I waved goodbye to Mrs Blog and retreated to the house with a heavy heart. My whole weekend to myself hinged on being able to assemble the latest purchase - a metal and plastic stool called Fanghorn (or something like that).
Previous encounters with Bumlard, Wilidik and Oyball had prepared me for what lay ahead.
With screwdriver and spanner set located I set about opening up the packaging. The usual instruction leaflet was there - no words just stupid little pictures that make no bloody sense. As you have probably guessed most of my weekend disappeared in trying to assemble Mrs Blog's Fanghorn Stool.
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