Yes, Chris, that’s true as he’s only going to play them through his boombox in his workshop, but it’ll take me exactly the same amount of time to tape them, plus the time finding them, plus the (admittedly miniscule) time to download, plus I’d have to buy a thing to make my computer talk to my tape deck.
S’Ok I’m enjoying it. He has decent taste in music. Apart from some Floyd, there is minimal Prog, and a large proportion of classic 70’s rock. For some reason there’s a Crystal Gayle album in there, but I assume that belonged to my sis in law.
I know as I rush headlong into middle-age, that I am naturally becoming more jaded… however the level of stupid with some people still leaves me breathless.
As a consequence of this I now struggle to bite my tongue, where-as a few years ago I would have pacified the situ.
Boiler call out today. Older Potterton. First flue gases to see what’s occuring combustion wise before I go rootin’ about in the bugger.
Alarm bells. Without any further action this is Immediately Dangerous and as such needs disconnected from gas supply. Got to go inside and check, as very rarely seen something as bad as this apart from on Stevensons Rocket.
Case off , instant smell of gas. Gas valve passing. Tightness test confirms. Inform the ‘responsible person’ boiler is in a serious state and needs a lot of work. Needs capped from supply until work can be carried out. Can still get gas valve but at £170 isn’t cheap. I will pick one up first thing tomorrow and fit then look at combustion issue for him likely burner but will pick up some spares and only bill what is used.
The not-so-responsible man-child goes full potato. Won’t allow disconnection refuses to sign paperwork. I call Emergency Providers, short wait in van for them to turn up. Outcome is gas meter removed.
The grave Dodger complete with flat cap and Volvo who nearly killed me this afternoon, cheers for proving my BPM can double in an instant. Next time check left before pulling out in front of a big fuck off 4x4 doing fifty at a distance of ten fucking meters. You and I have ABS and a deft chicane bit of steering to thank for our continued lives you stupid fucking cunt.
A deft one to the nadgers for me. Left a plastic chopping board laden with what was left of last nights lamb in the oven. Forgot to remove it this morning and didn’t realise that Mrs Malbec was cooking this morning. Cue cries of WTF did you leave in the oven followed by toxic fumes from both Mrs M and the oven.
Anyway, nice to start the year off in style, spose
Dementia can have one. My Uncle died this morning at the ripe old age of 69 from complications associated with advanced dementia. Don’t know all the details yet. That’s a trip to Wales I can do without.
Sorry to hear your sad news Terry. Between them dementia and cancer are now the curses of our times. The decades of work put into the latter continue to push the disease back. But the former is still waiting for any kind of effective breakthrough.
Sorry Terry, missed your post until today. Please accept my condolences on your loss. Dementia is the way of going I am most scared of. Cancer is rife in my family so I will be very lucky if it doesn’t get me, but at least I will know what is going on. The thought of losing my faculties absolutely terrifies me.
