Grandad July 13th, 2007
Conversation between K W Heaton and S J Lewis of Bristol University in 1997.
K: Hey Lewis! You got anything going at the moment?
S: No
K: How about doing some new research that will get our names in the books?
S: Sounds cool.
K: I was thinking that no one has ever categorised poo before into different types?
S: Shit!
K: Well, shit if you like. Or turds.
S: No. I meant ’shit, that’s a good idea’.
K: So what we need to do is go and find loads of poos and photograph them.
S: That sounds like fun. But how will we do that? Most people flush them away.
K: Ah! I hadn’t thought of that.
S: Why don’t we find someone who will provide all the samples?
K: Brilliant idea! That chap Bingley in the labs is always complaining of constipation. We can start with him.
S: Then we can start feeding him pints of stout to loosen him up a bit?
K: Now we are getting somewhere. But how do we get to the real runny stage? I don’t think he could take enough pints for that.
S: Maybe we could shoot him up with a dose of Botulism or Cholora or something? That should do the trick.
K: Brilliant! Might prove fatal though?
S: I’m sure he’ll be all right. and it is in the cause of scientific research.
K: True. Let’s make a start……
In loving memory of John Bingley
b:1972 d:1997
Grandad July 13th, 2007
I mentioned on Tuesday how the neighbours had knocked down their house.
The builders have been working like the clappers all week. You’d know they weren’t Irish.
There are two of them. I don’t know what nationality they are, but the always give me a friendly wave as I patrol my boundaries. They used to stop for meal breaks, but since our Sandy did a dump on their breakfast table, they don’t even do that any more.
They start work every morning at seven. Yesterday, they were working until midnight, non-stop. That’s 17 hours. I’d love to see an Irish builder do that! And they were back this morning at seven.
They caused mayhem yesterday, as they had a stream of huge lorries delivering fresh concrete. None of the lorries could enter the land so they blocked the lane while the concrete was trucked in bit by bit. The other neighbors were not best pleased.
I know how they do it though. I know where they get their stamina from.
They have a little dumper truck, and that’s what gave them away. All day yesterday it was going beeep beeep beeep. Which meant they were driving it backwards. So that’s it. They do everything backwards.
It makes sense when you think about it. If you go backwards, then you end up earlier than when you started. And you are not as tired, because you are now only beginning the job. Very clever. I’d love to talk to Einstein about it, but he isn’t around at the moment.
They’re out there beavering away at the moment in the p*ssing rain. I checked, and - yes - they are still going backwards. And the work is coming on at a fierce rate.
They must have realised that the beeep beeep beeep was a bit of a giveaway, because they switched it off yesterday and haven’t switched it on again.
But I know their secret.
I’m not stupid.
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