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message 1: by Anthony (new)

Anthony Carbis (anthonycarbis1tesconet) | 7 comments This morning I fancied doing a bit of D.I.Y. on the guttering. A piece of it was hanging loose after being battered by the coastal winds and, as the butler was still away on his groundsman's course, I thought I'd have a go at it instead of making him do it.

The guttering on my house is about fifty feet off the ground, as there are four floors in the place with fifteen or so large rooms to each floor. Even a pleb could discern from this information that I do not live cheap and that my standing in the community is far from lowly.

Having shinned up the drainpie ( for I am fit for my age - a fact that I put down to my exercising regularly by going for a ten minute stroll around the perimeter of the house twice a week ) I reached up towards where the broken piece of rusted guttering was swinging back and forth in the wind. Unfortunately, the metal wasn't rusted through quite as much as I had judged it would be, so that when I tugged on it the broken piece refused to break free.
Not to be beaten, I decided to climb up on the roof and attack the guttering from above where I felt I could get more leverage. However, unbeknown to me, a second moment of misfortune was destined to come my way. As I lay face down upon the roof with my feet pointing up towards one of the many chimney stacks and my face looking down at the broken guttering with the ground some fifty feet below, I felt myself slide suddenly forwards.

At this point in my tale, I feel I should point out that I never dress in more than a silk dressing gown in anything other than the coldest weather. This fact proved to be not to my advantage, as I suddenly found myself clinging upside-down to the drainpipe that I had so nimbly climbed not a minute before. Sod's law then dictated that a third episode of bad luck was about to come my way.

As I clung on upside down with my face towards the wall and my legs entwined around the piping, the tie around my dressing gown dropped loose, thereby allowing the whole garment to freefall down as far as my armpits. Everything from my carpet slippers to my upper back was now laid bare to the world - my buttocks and nether regions taking the full force of the wind coming across from Westcliff.
Needless to say, I yelled for assistance - my cries and shouts continuing for a full half an hour or more. This, of course, was all to no avail, as the grounds to my premises are so huge my nearest neighbours are a mile away.

After an hour of this torment I began to cry like a baby - a situation that continued until my wife arrived home and duly phoned for the local fire brigade to come and get me down, which they eventually did after they had indulged themselves in much pointing and laughing.
How do you spend your mornings?

message 2: by John (new)

John (noel_efturn) | 110 comments Actually, I had just checked in to a very futuristic hotel in Tokyo. Everything I saw or touched was a model of modern technical innovation.

After settling in my room, I looked in the mirror and decided I needed a bit of a trim, so I called the desk and inquired about the availability of a barber on the premises. The clerk apologized profusely for their inability to fulfill my precise request but told me if I went down the hall a bit, right there on my floor, there was a vending machine that would solve my problem.

I approached the machine with some trepidation, but bravely gave it a go anyway. ¥200 in the slot, my head in the opening in front of the machine, whirr/click/clatter/snip, snip, snip, and I pulled my head out. I took a look in the mirror on the side of the machine and was very pleasantly surprised to see a very neatly trimmed head of hair.

Looking about, I noticed another machine in the vicinity, this one touting a manicure. ¥100 per hand, and I was very satisfied with the results.

I was about to return to my room when one more machine caught my eye. In typical Japanese circumlocution, the sign said, "This Machine Provides A Service That Men Need When They Are Away From Their Wives" How could I go wrong for ¥50? I put the money in, extracted Mr. Johnson from his typical confines, inserted same, and pressed the button. Whirr/click/clatter -- and I began to have an out of body experience. I could see and hear myself shrieking in utter intractable agony. Five seconds later, I extracted myself from the clutches of the evil device and looked down at Mr. Pego only to discover that a button had been neatly sewn on the end.

message 3: by Melki (new)

Melki | 3512 comments Mod
Have fun explaining that to the missus.

message 4: by John (new)

John (noel_efturn) | 110 comments Melki wrote: "Have fun explaining that to the missus."

At our age, she's the last person likely to notice.

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