Am I the only one in this world who is picked on by inanimate objects?
I wouldn't be posting this but in a moment of weakness I promised Mrs Blog that I would. She spotted that the garage was in a little bit of disarray last week. Wondering what could have caused this, she asked me if I knew anything about it.
"Yes," said I, "I was in the garage a couple of days ago trying to get to the leaf blower."
It was leaning on a wall, in front of which, was the garden furniture (safely tucked away after summer). On one of the garden chairs was a heavy sack of chicken feed. Two other garden chairs were expertly balanced one on top of the other. In front of this Tracey Emin-esque work of art was a rake and a box full of black, garden rubbish bags ready to be re-used from last year.
I pulled out one of the garden bags, knowing it would be needed when I started using the leaf blower. Out came three, one of which was full of soggy rotten leaves that managed to fly all over me. I gave up and tackled the furniture picking up the bag of chicken feed. It had a hole in one corner, a bloody big hole, out of which poured a couple of kilos of the stuff. I set it down and went to move the chairs. One of them decided to fall on top of me without warning.
I took my revenge by kicking it and hurting my toe.
I wouldn't be posting this but in a moment of weakness I promised Mrs Blog that I would. She spotted that the garage was in a little bit of disarray last week. Wondering what could have caused this, she asked me if I knew anything about it.
"Yes," said I, "I was in the garage a couple of days ago trying to get to the leaf blower."
It was leaning on a wall, in front of which, was the garden furniture (safely tucked away after summer). On one of the garden chairs was a heavy sack of chicken feed. Two other garden chairs were expertly balanced one on top of the other. In front of this Tracey Emin-esque work of art was a rake and a box full of black, garden rubbish bags ready to be re-used from last year.
I pulled out one of the garden bags, knowing it would be needed when I started using the leaf blower. Out came three, one of which was full of soggy rotten leaves that managed to fly all over me. I gave up and tackled the furniture picking up the bag of chicken feed. It had a hole in one corner, a bloody big hole, out of which poured a couple of kilos of the stuff. I set it down and went to move the chairs. One of them decided to fall on top of me without warning.
I took my revenge by kicking it and hurting my toe.
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