tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37073382007-03-24T10:28:57.149-07:00masterplumberBlogger251tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-1091796425988913432004-08-06T05:46:00.000-07:002004-08-06T05:47:05.986-07:00

Blimey what a rammy about Sven giving it large to that bird from the FA. Can you Adam and Eve that they were going to sack him just for having a bit of extra time with a secretary? Bleedin crackers. If they wanted to give him the boot because he couldn’t get his team to beat a bunch of waiters in the Euros then that would have been fair enough but not just for a bit of how’s your father. Look

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-1082632620854211972004-04-22T04:16:00.000-07:002004-04-22T04:21:01.716-07:00

Blimey, can a man not speak his mind these days without the politically correct brigadiers getting all hot under their collars? Big Ron Atkinson, the working man’s microphonist, said a couple of things he didn’t mean anyone to hear and suddenly the poor bloke’s lost his job. Bleedin ridiculous if you ask me. Okay, so he shouldn’t have called Marcel Desailly a f***ing lazy ni***r out loud with

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-1081440379235177642004-04-08T09:06:00.000-07:002004-04-08T09:10:17.326-07:00

Blimey, I can’t believe all this locomotion about Sir David Beckham and this bit of Spanish skirt he’s supposed to have been knocking up. Can’t a man have any fun these days without it being plastered all over the bleedin papers? This Loos woman who he’s been doing shooting practice with ain’t much of a looker but maybe she likes the tumble dryer on full tilt if you get my meaning. Many a man

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-1069173719914070902003-11-18T08:41:00.000-08:002004-04-06T09:49:32.983-07:00

Just yesterday I was fitting a new s-bend for a woman in Richmond Place. I say ‘new’ it was actually a bit second hand and had spent the previous ten years of its existence in a flat round the corner. I say ‘woman’ but I’m not completely bleedin sure it wasn’t her husband in an Irish jig and her best Dorothy Perkins frock. I was a bit suspectful from the off but the toilet seat was up and the

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-1075312297067990022004-01-28T09:51:00.000-08:002004-01-28T09:53:45.390-08:00

Well blow me down with a gift voucher from B&Q. I was in this house in Argyll Avenue, up to my elbow in this woman’s waste pipe, when I heard the news on the radio. Turns out Tony Blair did nothing wrong in the whole David Kelly Iraq thingy after all. He’s cleaner than a Belfast sink on the 12th of July. Blimey. At least that’s what Lord Betty Hutton says and what with him being a proper lord

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-1071674346919963622003-12-17T07:19:00.000-08:002003-12-17T07:20:20.186-08:00

I was rigging up a dishwasher for a family down Ronald Place last week. Don’t know why he couldn’t just have bought her a pair of pink Marigold gloves and saved himself a few quid but who am I to argue. In fact he’d have saved himself a good few quid more if he’d been there instead of his missus. Moaned from start to flippin finish she did. My rule of thumb is add another 20 knicker to the bill

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-1070038097948588142003-11-28T08:48:00.000-08:002003-12-03T09:37:47.076-08:00

It’s enough to make me bleedin blood boil, it really is. Three froggie paparazzi have just got away with taking pictures of our Princess Diana, God bless her, on the night she died. It’s flippin misbelievable. These so-called photographers chase the poor, lovely woman to her death, hound her into an underground grave, and they don’t even get their cameras taken off them. Sick, that’s what it is

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-1065537315175290122003-10-07T07:35:00.000-07:002003-10-08T03:04:48.550-07:00

Did you see that Derren Brown geezer do that Russian Roulette thing on Channel 4 the other night? Flipping brilliant it was. The only slight disappointment was that the smug git didn’t blow his brains out but you can’t have everything. You’ve got to hand it to Channel 4 though. They may be purveyors of porn and servers of smut but they’ve got their faults as well. How’s this for a bit of TV

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-1058960532250062322003-07-23T04:42:00.000-07:002003-07-23T04:42:12.200-07:00

Wasn’t it nice to see Lord Archer being released from prison on Monday? The poor man should never have been locked up with common criminals but at least now he can indulge in his own pleasure rather than her Majesty’s. To put a proper lord like Lord Jeffrey away for trying to pervert the course of justice is an outrage. Just because the man jumped a rather ugly prostitute doesn’t in itself make

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-939274312003-05-07T07:08:00.000-07:002003-05-07T07:08:37.126-07:00

Is nothing sacred? The festering politically correct lefties that are ruining this country are at it again. You can’t open a door for a woman without someone accusing you of being sexist, you can’t respect a tradition without someone trying to tear it down and you can’t call the towel-heads terrorists without being accused of racism. What’s the world coming to? Last week they stopped tennis

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-905898542003-03-12T07:20:00.000-08:002003-03-12T07:20:15.950-08:00

As the constipated man says, it’s the waiting that’s the worst. Well I’ve been waiting for flippin weeks for this war to start and there’s not been so much as an exocet fired by accident. Not even a bit of death by friendly fire. Call this a war? Honest tradesmen like myself will obviously need to put our prices up if there is a war and we need a bit of notice to get the stationery changed. It’

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-897199972003-02-25T09:03:00.000-08:002003-02-25T09:03:45.403-08:00

I’ve been having a good think about the state of the Conservative Party in Britain. Two minutes it took me. Shower of flamin’ losers. Lady Thatcher would be turning in her grave if she could see the mess this lot was in. If she was dead. To think that the party she led to three General Election wins can’t even organise a day’s outing to a distillery. Disgraceful. There’s Ian Duncan-Thingy, the

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-889945202003-02-12T13:52:00.000-08:002003-02-19T10:12:24.000-08:00

This Cricket World Cup in South Africa is really confusing me. Well, it’s just not cricket is it? It’s politics, it’s death threats, it’s drug taking, it’s racial slurs. It’s everything except flaming cricket. I don’t really know what the problem is with these English lads not wanting to play in Zimbabwe. Are they afraid of getting beat or are they just a bunch of nancy boys? Okay so there’s a

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-878367502003-01-22T04:21:00.000-08:002003-01-22T04:21:07.986-08:00

It makes my blood boil, it really does. Who do these people think they are? You give them the English language, teach them cricket and football, put shoes on their feet and all they want to do is come to Britain and blow us up. And if that wasn’t bad enough, they want to take money from the social while they are at it. They call them asylum seekers but as far as I can see they are asylum

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-866004152002-12-27T13:12:00.000-08:002002-12-27T13:12:58.553-08:00

YEARS ARE like pipes - you can look back at them, up them, down them or along them but you can't change the crap that was in them. And as I always say, if it's true in plumbing then it's true in life. In January, Johnny Foreigner and his continental cousins threw away their money and started spending this new Euro thingy instead. Quite right too, I say. If we have to go to their hot and

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-858450052002-12-11T08:57:00.000-08:002002-12-11T08:57:20.560-08:00

Who amongst us hasn’t enlisted the help of the convicted fraudster boyfriend of your former soft-porn actress best friend in order to save a few quid on a house? No, me neither. Does Mrs Blair really believe we will all fall for that quivering lower lip, I’m just a girlie, don’t really understand business, my poor son is leaving home, Tony is too full of the milk of human kindness, yada yada

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-851056592002-11-26T04:54:00.000-08:002002-11-26T04:54:39.553-08:00

Now I’m the last man to stand in the way of someone earning a decent wage but those firefighters are getting right up my hooter. How can they honestly expect a 40 per cent pay rise for sitting around playing pool all week and rescuing cats from trees? The odd chip pan fire and the occasional terrorist bombing hardly justifies 30 grand a year now does it? Your average fireman’s average week may

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-841097032002-11-06T02:36:00.000-08:002002-11-06T02:36:19.120-08:00

Having previously written about Mr Paul Burrell, former butler to the blessed Diana, and suggested that he was a thieving git who should be executed, I now discover I was wrong. Mr Burrell is in fact not a thief. He told her Maj the Queen that he was going to ‘safeguard’ a few items of Diana’s things and therefore was quite entitled to take 284 personal items and hide them in his loft. Her Maj’s

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-840677362002-11-05T09:13:00.000-08:002002-11-05T09:13:13.046-08:00

What a rumpus about that so-called kidnap attempt on Mrs Posh Beckham by a gang of crazed Romanian gypsies. As usual the newspapers got it all wrong. Fair enough, it wasn’t nice that the gypos wanted to abduct Lady Victoria, hold her for a £5m ransom and threaten to chop her up into tiny pieces. That kind of behaviour just isn’t called for. But everybody seemed to miss the point. If a gang of

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-830147452002-10-15T07:24:00.000-07:002002-10-31T02:48:58.000-08:00

Is there no end to the indignities that poor Princess Diana must suffer? It’s bad enough that she is being portrayed as a slapper whose ex husband is cavorting around with an elderly horse-faced woman. Now we are told that her butler has been knicking all her best gear. First of all, just because the lovely Diana had personal relations with various members of the armed forces, society

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-827547302002-10-09T13:06:00.000-07:002002-10-09T13:09:50.000-07:00

There's an old newspaper saying that Man Bites Dog is not a story. Dog Bites Man, now that's different. So why is it when an out of control bull terrier belonging to our beloved Princess Anne savages two young children is it suddenly news? It's just another example of media bias against our Royal Family that's what. Now they are demanding that the Princess Royal and the honourable Commodore

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-824613682002-10-03T04:11:00.000-07:002002-10-03T04:11:45.083-07:00

Old John Major, eh? Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more, say no more. Who would have believed that the old grey man and the egg lady had been going through the yes lobby together all these years? Mrs Thatcher must be turning in her grave. And yet Mr Major’s episode of shame could so easily have been avoided if he had remembered the plumber’s code. If I have one golden rule it’s never lend

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-824324402002-10-02T13:38:00.000-07:002002-10-02T13:38:16.860-07:00

I've been called out to fix a few swimming pools in my time. Rich nobs with more money than sense leave something floating in their pools that gum up the works. Lilos, towels, hair, rubber items of various uses, you name it I've had to retrieve it from the filtration system. But I have to admit in all my days I've never found a dead body bunging up the drain. How unlucky is that. That poor

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-820358812002-09-24T01:15:00.000-07:002002-09-24T01:25:03.000-07:00

I’m troubled by all this talk of war in Iraq. No other phrase for it. I’m troubled. It’s not just the increased probability of a global religious conflict, millions of lives being lost and the threat of nuclear Armageddon. It’s how much Saddam Hussein looks like Super Mario. I’m troubled that the image of plumbing and plumbers everywhere will be irreparably damaged by the uncanny resemblance

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3707338.post-812349092002-09-06T06:41:00.000-07:002002-09-06T08:14:42.000-07:00

Poor old Stephen Byers. You've just got feel sorry for him, haven't you? As if it wasn't bad enough that he had to sort out the old transport mess, he had to work with that strange-looking Jo Moore woman as well. Is it any wonder he always looked as if he was about to start crying? Then he was accused of lying when all he had done was give an estimate that didn't turn out to be entirely accurate.

masterplumber