We just arrived back from a week away. Now, we live in a pretty low crime area, but we are plagued by a group of rascals who like to rob stuff from people's sheds. For the sake of convenience, we'll call these scallywags Thieving Pikey Fuckers, or TPFs for short.
TPFs have turned over a number of our neighbours more than once, but until now we've been left well alone. One of the reasons for this must be the devastatingly shambolic state of our shed. If you aren't killed by the initial landslip of crap, there are any number of poisons, badly secured bladed objects and elderly pressurised containers to prematurely snuff the unwary.
Then there's the back fence, which is a monument to decrepitude - a veritable deathtrap of friable planking and tetanus-inducing rusty nails.
Whatever the reason, we'd never been TPFed. Until now. Wisely, the TPFs avoided the fence and came in over the innocuous looking shed roof. They gathered their stash on the roof of the kids' fort and then they exited - again, via the shed roof.
Happily, the shed roof is marginally less safe and stable than the fence. So the little bastards fell through it. I don't know if they broke anything. I hope so. I hope, genuinely, that they were skewered, poisoned and exploded, and that they subsequently dragged themselves home, where even now they are sweating out the sepsis and Waferin, unable even to order out for Dominos, or reach the Sky remote.
Either way, the stuff they tried to nick was still on the roof of the kids' fort when we got back. I literally laughed my arse off.
Foodie and grubby: not the same thing
2 weeks ago