Tuesday 7 December 2010

Much

Them folks must be filthy. Or fussy, I dunno. They're always washing. They wash themselves, they wash their clothes, they have a bloke with a ladder to clean the windows, they clean indoors, blimey, 'er even washes the floor, dunno why, it's there to be walked on. Me, I wait for it to rain, and I don't smell. Neither does me snail.

So, yesterday, they're both working downstairs when something in the kitchen went bang and the lights went out. Music on the radio stopped. Computer shut up. Now, I dunno what a trip switch is, but something tripped. Not surprised, if they leave it lying around, anyone might fall over it. Anyway, 'e tripped it back o again and everything was still working except the washing machine. Must have been the washer what went bang.

Now, if this were 'er Mistmantle island there'd be a load of animals and a washtub, and all them little critters would be jumping up and down on the clothes, making a great game of it. As it, 'er's packed him off to the laundery-ette. Reckon they'll be in there a lot this week.

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