Post by TAFF on Oct 13, 2007 4:42:52 GMT 1
A wife, frustrated by her husband’s bone-idleness around the house,
especially in the DIY department, sees cause for concern one day when the toilet clogs up.
She decides to ask him if he’d mind seeing to it, and is greeted with a gruff,
‘Who do I look like? A toilet cleaner?’
The next day the waste disposal unit seizes up.
Summoning all her courage, she says, ‘Sorry to bother you, dear. The waste disposal’s broken – would you try to fix it for me?’
‘Who do I look like? Some sort of plumber? Get me a beer and sod off!’ is the reply.
To cap it all, the next day the washing machine goes on the blink and, taking her life in her hands, the wife addresses the sofa-bound slob:
‘Darling, I know you’re busy, but the washing machine’s packed up.’ ‘Oh, and I suppose I look like a bloody washing-machine man?’ her old man says.
Finally fed up, she calls out three different repairmen to come and fix her appliances.
That evening, she informs her husband of this. He frowns angrily and asks,
‘So how much will it cost?’ ‘Well, they said I could pay them either by baking a cake or having sex,’ she says.
‘What type of cakes did you bake?’ he growls.
‘Who do I look like? Delia Smith?’
especially in the DIY department, sees cause for concern one day when the toilet clogs up.
She decides to ask him if he’d mind seeing to it, and is greeted with a gruff,
‘Who do I look like? A toilet cleaner?’
The next day the waste disposal unit seizes up.
Summoning all her courage, she says, ‘Sorry to bother you, dear. The waste disposal’s broken – would you try to fix it for me?’
‘Who do I look like? Some sort of plumber? Get me a beer and sod off!’ is the reply.
To cap it all, the next day the washing machine goes on the blink and, taking her life in her hands, the wife addresses the sofa-bound slob:
‘Darling, I know you’re busy, but the washing machine’s packed up.’ ‘Oh, and I suppose I look like a bloody washing-machine man?’ her old man says.
Finally fed up, she calls out three different repairmen to come and fix her appliances.
That evening, she informs her husband of this. He frowns angrily and asks,
‘So how much will it cost?’ ‘Well, they said I could pay them either by baking a cake or having sex,’ she says.
‘What type of cakes did you bake?’ he growls.
‘Who do I look like? Delia Smith?’
