Life in north east England (yes, we've moved!) with an eccentric Welshman and a small white dog that thinks he's a Rottweiler.
A box too far
"What I could do, I suppose," he said, "is remove one of the towers. Then I can get rid of a lot of the wires."
"Yes, and then we can get rid of all the empty boxes, sort out all the discs and keep it tidy!"
But by this time, Keith had his fingers in his ears and was humming gently to himself.
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Plaster board and dust
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2 comments:
Surely poor Keith is not being harassed?
Perish the thought, Greg! :o
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