[theo_luddite]

I went round to see a young lady I've known for a few years (she's 69 years young and still behaves like a teenager and can drink me under the table) for Sunday lunch t'other week. I was prewarned about a blocked drain. So overalls and elbow length extra thick marigolds were the order of the day, and that was just to eat lunch.

Nay I jest.

This wor the fust toyme, as they might say dowun eeya, 'er 'ad a blocked drayun.

T'drayu stonk like a polecat in a pig stoy. Me marigolds were almost long enough to fish the solid crap out from under the 'grey' water, and even now after bleaching and disinfecting, they still have to be stored in nuclear grade mini-grip bags or they stonk the cupboard out under me sink.

I know she'll be back again soon with the same problem. Hard water, dead leaves, piss poor drain design and oh yeah. I went to move what looked like an old stone out the way of the drain cover. Except this old stone was soft, opened it's eyes, blinked at me and I realised it was a bloody great toad about the size of my hand. Drain cover went back on pretty darned quick I tell thi.