Picture this. I have been painting the house all week and weekend, using
every available moment to grab a brush. I walked into the shop to get a
large can of acrylic white I'd left there. As I walk into the shop I make a
bee-line around the junk laying everywhere and make one small mistake - I
tread on the shop-dog's tail. The dog, a solid two year old Lab, leaps up
howling and lifts the card table she's under. The paint I am looking for was
on the card table, now it is everywhere and running all over the shop-dog's
back. Shop-dog gets that bath-time look and I know she is about to shake, so
I yell "NOOooooo" and make a grab for her. I slip on the paint and crash
down in a heap on the floor in the paint, sawdust and shavings.
The dog gets 'the look' again and there's not a thing I can do about it. I
watch as she lowers her nose at me and the lips begin to twitch, the eyes go
into squint mode and the jowls begin to wobble and finally her head starts
'the shake'. The paint flies from her head to the roof, walls, tool
cabinets, windows - everywhere! The 'shake' moves to her neck and back as I
get to my feet and start bellowing at her. She tries to move away but is
mid-shake, and only manages a half-turn, this is just sufficient to aim at
the remaining unpainted areas of the shop. A full gallon and a half is
thrown all over the shop, what can't get onto benches hits the roof, then
falls onto benches. Drillpresses, sawbench, electrical tools, open cupboards
and drawers, she gets the lot. I try to dive again and miss, instead hitting
the Sears toolboxes which begin to move quickly across the floor until they
hit the expansion crease - and stop dead - at least the wheels do anyway.
The three cabinets lean right over and fall, crashing into the TS and
dropping their contents all over the floor into the paint, spanners,
sockets, screwdrivers - every darn handtool I own.
At this point I roar out "get the f*@# outta here" and hear SWMBO saying
"Greg, it's all right". "Bull*#@!" says I, as I struggle with something
pinning me down. I slowly realise I am pinned by a sheet, and become aware
that I am in bed, dry, and it's the middle of the night. SWMBO asks why I
was yelling at Sally (shop-dog), and what did she do? For my part, I tell
the kids to go back to bed and promise to tell SWMBO in the morning. I
should have told her as soon as we got up, because she has been reading this
over my shoulder as I type it in, and now I have coffee down my back.
Brains are treacherous things guys, never switch 'em off - they'll turn on
ya.
Good one, dude!
--
*Think thrice, measure twice and cut once.
*Sanding is like paying taxes ... it has to be done, but it is
important to take steps to minimize it.
*There is only one period and no underscores in the real email address.
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In article <[email protected]>,
[email protected] says...
> Picture this.
... snip
OK
> At this point I roar out "get the f*@# outta here" and hear SWMBO saying
> "Greg, it's all right". "Bull*#@!" says I, as I struggle with something
> pinning me down. I slowly realise I am pinned by a sheet, and become aware
> that I am in bed, dry, and it's the middle of the night. SWMBO asks why I
> was yelling at Sally (shop-dog), and what did she do? For my part, I tell
> the kids to go back to bed and promise to tell SWMBO in the morning. I
> should have told her as soon as we got up, because she has been reading this
> over my shoulder as I type it in, and now I have coffee down my back.
>
Yeah, well, thanks, I have water all over my screen now. At least it
wasn't tea this time. :-)
Hilarious story.
> Brains are treacherous things guys, never switch 'em off - they'll turn on
> ya.
>
>
>
clean up the shop or it may happen,funny story all the same
"Groggy" <[email protected]> wrote in message
news:[email protected]...
> Picture this. I have been painting the house all week and weekend, using
> every available moment to grab a brush. I walked into the shop to get a
> large can of acrylic white I'd left there. As I walk into the shop I make
a
> bee-line around the junk laying everywhere and make one small mistake - I
> tread on the shop-dog's tail. The dog, a solid two year old Lab, leaps up
> howling and lifts the card table she's under. The paint I am looking for
was
> on the card table, now it is everywhere and running all over the
shop-dog's
> back. Shop-dog gets that bath-time look and I know she is about to shake,
so
> I yell "NOOooooo" and make a grab for her. I slip on the paint and crash
> down in a heap on the floor in the paint, sawdust and shavings.
>
> The dog gets 'the look' again and there's not a thing I can do about it. I
> watch as she lowers her nose at me and the lips begin to twitch, the eyes
go
> into squint mode and the jowls begin to wobble and finally her head starts
> 'the shake'. The paint flies from her head to the roof, walls, tool
> cabinets, windows - everywhere! The 'shake' moves to her neck and back as
I
> get to my feet and start bellowing at her. She tries to move away but is
> mid-shake, and only manages a half-turn, this is just sufficient to aim at
> the remaining unpainted areas of the shop. A full gallon and a half is
> thrown all over the shop, what can't get onto benches hits the roof, then
> falls onto benches. Drillpresses, sawbench, electrical tools, open
cupboards
> and drawers, she gets the lot. I try to dive again and miss, instead
hitting
> the Sears toolboxes which begin to move quickly across the floor until
they
> hit the expansion crease - and stop dead - at least the wheels do anyway.
> The three cabinets lean right over and fall, crashing into the TS and
> dropping their contents all over the floor into the paint, spanners,
> sockets, screwdrivers - every darn handtool I own.
>
> At this point I roar out "get the f*@# outta here" and hear SWMBO saying
> "Greg, it's all right". "Bull*#@!" says I, as I struggle with something
> pinning me down. I slowly realise I am pinned by a sheet, and become aware
> that I am in bed, dry, and it's the middle of the night. SWMBO asks why I
> was yelling at Sally (shop-dog), and what did she do? For my part, I tell
> the kids to go back to bed and promise to tell SWMBO in the morning. I
> should have told her as soon as we got up, because she has been reading
this
> over my shoulder as I type it in, and now I have coffee down my back.
>
> Brains are treacherous things guys, never switch 'em off - they'll turn on
> ya.
>
>
On Sun, 21 Dec 2003 04:08:15 GMT, "Groggy" <[email protected]>
brought forth from the murky depths:
>Brains are treacherous things guys, never switch 'em off - they'll turn on
>ya.
"...and I'd never seen Sally fly before, but there she was,
looking down at me through those big, sullen eyes from the
attic opening..."
Happy Holidays, big guy.
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