My Ice Bucket Challenge – Bob On The Pot

Hello,

The Ice Bucket challenge has become a global phenomenononon.

Dipso Dave did it in the Recalcitrant Peacock on Saturday night and then spent the night in hospital. Nothing to do with the bucket of ice water. Teach him to leer at my lovely wife Shirley.

Any road up, as Saturday night’s Bhuna began its journey to the Sewage plant I wondered how this Ice Bucket Challenge would develop.

As the match flickered and snuffed out the final whiff of my ordure, the idea came to me.

Checking that there was no floating debris, I donned a pair of googles and a snorkel.  I told Shirley bring the camera to record my efforts. I placed my head in the bowl.

On my command she flushed. With gusto. Time and again. Remarkable wrist strength.

My head became firmly wedged in the bowl necessitating the Kent Fire Brigade to attend our home to (as the report said) “extricate from the upstairs toilet, a fat bloke wearing goggles and a snorkel who had managed to get his head stuck in the bowl .”

Thank God for the snorkel or I could have come to a sticky end.

Just watch Bowl Dunking catch on! Plays havoc with your ballcock though.

I nominate Justin Bieber, The Islamic State and Katie Hopkins.

Go on it is for Charridee after all.

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

On Holiday With Bob On The Pot

 

Ola,

We are on holiday in Spain.

Spanish plumbing really has come on leaps and bounds. It is a pleasure to ascend my throne for an hour in the morning and allow the previous night’s paella, chips, sausages, black pudding, egg, chips and leg of lamb begin its momentous journey to the sea. Why David Attenborough hasn’t done a documentary on this still bemuses me. Like that one about the salmon returning to their spawning grounds. Only this would be about turds.

Still can’t get used to the bidet though. Use it to rinse me smalls.

We went on a boat trip.

An On The Pot served as a Tar under Nelson at the Battle of Trafalgar.

Horatio On The Pot came to a sticky end. Not in the heat of battle, but sneaking a crafty snifter from the barrel of brandy that Nelson was pickled in. They say the resulting dysentery was the inspiration behind pebble dashing.

We’ve met Brian and Sandra. They are from Basildon. The posh part. He sells double glazing. What he doesn’t know about glazing isn’t worth knowing about. I know because he told me. Often. Very often.

Sandra and my lovley wife Shirley have formed a bond, giggling and glaring at Brian and me as they cane the Gordons.

All this whilst Brian advises me on developments in toughened safety glass. Give me strength. Give me melanoma. Anything but the exciting world of lead beading finishes.

Ole.

 

Read Full Post »