Fricken tradies.
Dirty dirty bogues the lot of ‘em. Especially the farkwits who woke me at 7am this morning to knock down the house two doors down from mine.
Mr Nightwatchman! Surely not all our fine citizens in the trades are….ahem… how you so finely put it, “dirty bogues”.
They are mate. And I’ll tell you why. One of the great measures of how bogue you are is how much you talk about how early you get up in the mornings.
“I get up at five so I can leave early and beat the traffic in the mornings!”
“No, I didn’t watch Foreign Corespondent last night. I’m usually out like a light by nine!”
What a load of shit.
Stop waking me up in the morning with your MIX 101 and heavy machinery and I will start to accept youse as the family loving, long time listener, first time callers you really are.
And now I look out my window to see a bunch of them standing around, smoking dirty Horizons and talking about their wives’ skin conditions and how pissed off that their kids' Auskick starting at 9.30am really stuffs around with their Saturdays.
Surely that could have been done at seven?
2 comments:
One of them smashed their truck into my Saab!
Off to get my two quotes now.
If this is Carma, I take back everything said earlier in this posting.
By the way, TRADIES is an anagram of TIRADES!!
and of course ARIDEST, ASTRIDE and
STAIDER.
But I get you already knew that.
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