Miss Plumberman (wearing pink socks…ofcourse)

[janestarz]

Today I was remembered why I really really really had to move out and away from Gassy. She cleaned the birdcage and looked at me demonically (like planting a knife in my back any minute now) saying I had to clean the sink better because the fact that I eat means it now is clogged. So I replied “What do you think I did last night, just suck on my spunge?!” There was a note on the sink saying “Please throw away rubbish from the sink. Thanks in advance.” That was the first to go…

Then I grabbed my really big wrench and started unscrewing the swan’s neck (is this proper English?) which was filled with grease. It smelled like hell, and I cleaned it with chloor and rescrewed it. Why is getting stuff on always easier than getting stuff off? (This even applies to foreplay and the way buttons never open when you want them to)